Epiphany
by Shay Stark and Raven Rogers
Summary: Loki Odinson would do anything to recover what he is lost. Even if it means destroying his home, his family, and the love of his life. One-sided Loki/Thor. Prequel to Faithfully Yours and Forever Yours. Violence. Angst. Male pregnancy Complete.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: This is the prequel to "Faithfully Yours, Loki Laufeyson" and "Forever Yours, Thor Odinson". Uses direct quotes from the movie, which I do not own, to explain the troubles that have fraught Loki's life and led him to living in Midgard. If you have not read the letters, you might as well. This contains one-sided slash, some sexual content, angst, and male pregnancy. If you don't like those, don't read this. Okay? Okay. Enjoy. 3 And for those of you who have read the letters and want more, you will get it as soon as this is over. I promise. 3**

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**Epiphany**

**Prologue**

"Please, Father," Loki Odinson begged, still weak from the birth, his arms shaking as he wrapped them around himself, around the now-flat expanse of his abdomen. The place where his daughter had rested inside of him as she grew. "Please don't take her from me. She needs me."

Odin Allfather sat upon his throne, scepter in hand, golden helmet blazing upon his head, expression blank as Loki pleaded with him. Through most of his life, Loki had known his father to be fair even if he could not be kind, but this was madness. His daughter, a tiny girl not even a month old, was held carefully by his mother as she stood at his father's side. Though Odin's face was blank, Frigga's was a mask of despair as she tried to soothe Hel's quiet cries. Of course, she could not. Loki was the only one who could, but by his father's decree, he would never see his daughter again. He was on his knees, his cheeks soaked from hours of weeping, his brother hovering uncertainly at his side. Though it had been his plan to come in strong and demand his daughter be left with him, dizziness and anguish brought him rapidly to his knees. He wanted her, wanted Hel, wanted to hold her and comfort her and care for her, but when he had tried to move toward her, Thor had caught his harm. Had given him a look to tell him to stay away from her lest he be cast out with her. But Loki did not care. All he wanted was her.

"She is not of Asgardian blood. You knew of this when you laid with the Shadow in Nornheim. You _knew_, Loki, and now this is the product of what you have done," Odin said, his expression never shifting.

Loki sobbed, leaning forward until he was nearly doubled over from the agony of not having his child, of never having her. "But I love her. I can care for her no matter _what_ she becomes."

"You should have thought of that before you did what you did," Odin said simply.

"But she is my daughter," Loki said desperately, bracing one hand on the floor, lifting his face so he could stare into his father's eyes. "She kicked in my womb. She was born of my blood. What does it matter that her father is not Asgardian? Her mother _is_. Thor is not of simply Asgardian blood, and—"

Calmly, Odin raised his hand. "I am sorry, but I have said all that I will on this subject. She will be returned to her father once Heimdall finds him. She will be taken from this realm, and you will not seek her out. Do you understand me?"

"He understands, Father. I will take him back to his room to rest now," Thor said shortly, hands sliding under Loki's arms, drawing him up to his feet. "He will bother you no more on this subject."

Though Loki did not understand, he allowed Thor to drag him the length of the hall toward his bedroom, his head bowed as he wept. It had been only two weeks since his daughter had been born. Until then, they had been connected far deeper than could be explained. He remembered when she first began to move inside of him, when only he could feel her movements because they were so faint. For hours, he would sit in the garden and talk to her, rest his hand on his abdomen and feel her kick, responding to his words in the only way she could. When it was possible to feel her from the outside, the first person he allowed to feel her kick was Thorn, and he had looked bemused and elated at the feel of his niece. But now, here he was, dragging Loki away from the very child he had been excited about. The bastard. The _bastard_. How could he do this? How could he drag a mother away from a child when it was so clear they wanted each other? When they _needed_ each other?

"Just kill me before it hurts any more," Loki whispered, feet dragging along the floor.

Thor sighed sadly and scooped him up, carrying him into his room and tucking him beneath the heavy emerald comforter. "I am sorry, Brother. You must know I did not want this. But this is what Father has decreed, and we can do nothing about it. But rest assured I will bring your daughter back to your arms one day. I promise you."

"Empty words." Loki squeezed his eyes shut against another onslaught of tears. How he hated to cry so in front of his stronger, older brother. How he hated to appear so weak when Hel needed him to be strong for her. How he hated himself. "Please stay. I do not want to be alone."

And Thor slipped beneath the silken comforter and embraced his brother, and Loki fell asleep in the grips of the greatest bout of weeping he had dealt with so far.


	2. Chapter One

**Author's Note: Hello to those of you who have made it past the prologue. As you can tell, it was short, but it was a prologue, so it can be short. As I said, this contains direct quotes from the movie. These first few quotes are from the scene at the very beginning where Thor and Loki are small, adorable children. If you have not seen the movie, do be warned now: Spoiler alert. Remember to Story Alert and Review as you read so I can know your thoughts and answer any questions you may have. Enjoy. 3**

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**Epiphany**

**Chapter One**

"_Do the Frost Giants still live?" Loki asked, because he was young and sheltered, a true prince of Asgard who knew nothing more than what his parents and his teachers told him. Knew nothing more than his brother, who stood beside him._

"_When I'm king, I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all," Thor said brightly, gesturing wildly with his arm, as if wielding a sword. "Just as you did, Father."_

_Odin smiled indulgently at his sons, the perfect father to the two energetic sons before him, one light and one dark, and though it did matter they were different, it did not yet matter enough to tear their fragile family into silvers. "A wise king never seeks out war. But he must always be ready for it."_

Loki awoke from the dream tiredly, slitting his eyes against the harsh golden sunlight spilling into his room. His dreams had been a myriad of pain and memory, a combination of his childhood and the night his first child was taken from him. Just the first. The other four had wounded him just as much, but somehow, nothing could rival the pain of the first. When Fenrir had been born Aesir, Loki had been sure Odin would allow him to keep the child and raise him, but his father had argued no one would accept the child of the prince because of Fen's conception. As if that mattered. But Fenrir had been taken to Alfheim to be raised by the fair folk, another child he was told not to visit. Another child he was not supposed to know still lived. Oh, but he knew. He knew where all five of his children were, and he had held all five of them in his arms since they had been taken from him. Had he not kept his dark beauty over the years, he would not have been able to offer his body up to the men whom had given him his lovely children. To his relief, all five of them still desired him, and they seemed to have no problem mating with him in other ways rather than the standard.

Five children had been taken from him, and he refused to conceive another while he was locked in the hell that was the realm of Asgard.

When his vision had adjusted to the yellow light, he sat up and stretched his arms over his head, rolling his shoulders and neck to work the stiffness out of them. He knew it was the day of his brother's coronation as king of Asgard, and as expected, he was uninterested with the display and wanted only to rest longer. His dreams were keeping him from the sleep he so desperately needed, especially since he had been skimping on his meals and spending hours in the library. Working. Reading. Analyzing. Learning. He had promised himself he would find a way to bring his children home, and he was certain he had a plan worked out in his mind. One at a time, he would bring his little ones home to his arms, and Odin would not be able to do anything about it.

Of course, he kept his work secret and spoke of it to no one, shielding himself with his magic when he thought Heimdall might be watching. Though he was not obviously doing anything to spur a reaction from the Gatekeeper, he was nervous his intent might be discovered before he had completed his task.

He stood slowly and shrugged out of his sleep shirt, heading for the spacious bathroom he called his own so he could spend most of his morning in the bath. At least Heimdall kept his eyes away from the bathroom because he respected the privacy of the royal family. The thought of that helped the dark prince to relax as he drew himself a bath, pausing to assess his reflection in the mirror. Nights of not sleeping enough were taking their toll on him, but he was certain he could keep it up a bit longer until he had his first little one home. A little one cast to Jotunheim of all places, but that would soon be remedied once the coronation was over. When the little voice in the back of his head spoke up and simply begged him to ask Thor to bring his babies home, he silenced it. Thor had seen him begging on his hands and knees _five times_ for his babies to be brought home, and the crown prince had not once spoken up in his defense. Thor could not help him. Loki would have to help himself.

The water of the bath was hot against his skin, as smooth as silk, and he slid beneath the bubbles with a satisfied sigh. Unlike his brother, who would rather wallow in the mud and bathe in the communal pool with the other wretches he played with. But Loki liked privacy and the soft peace that wrapped around him like a veil. Of course, he was finally just settled into the water when the sound of feet stamping through his room toward the closed bathroom door.

_Damn it._

"Brother!" Thor shoved the door open, not bothering to knock or even ask if he could come in. "There you are. Mother told me to come see if you had awakened yet. Shall I tell her you have, or should I tell her after you've finished your bath?"

"Tell her what you wish. I care not. I do not plan on leaving my chambers until I am satisfied with the amount of time I have spent in the water," Loki remarked, sinking a bit further into the water.

It was hard to meet his brother's eyes when Thor was standing there in nothing more than his nightshirt, and Loki knew from experience there was nothing underneath. Gods above, but he wished he could beckon Thor to join him in the tub because it would be the perfect beginning to what was already shaping up to be a poor day if his plan do not come through. Nightmares about his precious daughter being taken from him. Stupid speeches from their father. All compacted into the four hours he had slept, and now he was being tortured by the gorgeous man he knew was his brother. Or was said to be his brother. Though he doubted it. Severely. How could they be, when they were so very different? But seeing as he could not explain to his father or mother why he wanted to know if he was from another realm, he kept his thoughts to himself. There would be time for that line of questioning later, after his brother's special day was long over.

Thor lowered himself down in the chair Loki kept in the room for the nights when he lotioned his legs to keep his sensitive skin from drying in the hot Asgardian summer air. "You always spend hours in your baths. Why so long? You are so slight it cannot take much time to clean yourself."

"I soak myself in the same perfumed waters the maidens do," Loki snapped casually, closing his eyes as he focused on the rose perfume he had added to his bathwater. He had a dozen or so perfumes he kept for his baths, scents that drove the men of Asgard crazy with want and desire, but he did it to tease. So far, none of the ones he had met deserved to ask for his hand, but they were perfect for dragging along. "Perhaps one day I will bear children Father is not ashamed of. What do you think, Thor? A dozen or so little golden-haired, blue-eyed Aesir our king can be proud of."

"Your children are beautiful, Brother, and none who have seen them can argue that. Perhaps if you do bear Aesir, children, though, Father will allow you to keep them," Thor said.

Neither of them mentioned the fact that he had already born a child of Aesir blood, but Loki was certain the only reason Fenrir had been taken was because his father had not yet learned to trust him again. It had been only a year since he had born his last child, but he sensed Odin was ready to trust him again if he could muster up the strength it would take to lie once again. After all, so many fine Asgardian warriors were chasing after him, and it was only a matter of time before one of them made a proper marriage proposition. And after the first, many more would come, fighting duels and other nonsense. Odin would have to choose. Of course, the moment he did that, Loki would have a husband to requisition for a quest to bring his children back to Asgard.

What shame would be brought to the house of Odin then.

Thor cleared his throat, and Loki opened his eyes to see his brother slowly leaning back in the chair. "Do remember that I promised you, Brother, that I will bring your daughter back to you. Do remember that. Because when I am crowned king, no one will be able to tell me I cannot bring your offspring back to Asgard. No one. And I will name them a princess and princes, and we will parade them through the streets, and the people will see just how lovely your little ones are. Who would dispute me when I am king? Who would be foolish enough to speak out against me?"

_No one. They fear death more than they fear you, though, Brother. They fear the ruthless beast that lives within your soul._ "If you do so, then I will prove to be the most clever and thoughtful advisor any king of Asgard has ever had. I shall lead you to victory in all matters of politic and war. But I want my children, Thor, and I want them safe in my arms and away from their fathers. And if their fathers come to try to take them away, I want you to kill them."

"And I will because you are their mother and you know what is best for them," Thor said without hesitation, falling into the pattern of conversation they had been having since Hel had been exiled. "And those who treat your children as anything less than the royalty they are, they will be swiftly dealt with by I and the Aesir man you choose as your husband."

Though Thor spoke so grandly of the children Loki had conceived with other men from other races, his true prejudice showed when he spoke. He wanted Loki to choose an Aesir man as his husband. Or perhaps it was his own fear. After all, if Loki chose another man of another race to wed, that man would be out of Thor's control and not subject to the laws of Asgard. Either way, Thor wanted him to wed an Aesir, and that piqued Loki's interest. He filed that information into the back of his mind for later use and sat up somewhat, lifting one leg out of the water and reaching for the soft cloth he used to wash his skin. Though it was a simple motion, he saw Thor's eyes darken and wondered if the other warriors were not the only ones who were swayed by the way he carried himself. Perfumes to catch the noses of men deep in conversation. Dark green clothing to draw attention to the unique green eyes he kept full of innocence at nearly every moment. A sway to his hips so their eyes roamed downward.

Perhaps Thor truly was no better than the men whose company he kept, the loud, obnoxious warriors who drank their fill and spoke only of battles and women they had bedded. And, on the nights Loki chose to grace them with his presence, he listened in to them talk about him. He never listened to Thor, never had cause to listen to him before, but now he wondered.

"Have you given thought as to who you may choose as a husband?" Thor asked after a moment.

Loki smiled and shrugged his shoulders as he scrubbed his leg. "I have thought about which man will give me what I desire most, but I am uncertain as to who I should settle down with. Of course, you have recommend Fandral, and Mother likes Owain, and Father wishes I would settle down with a woman so that it will be impossible for me to bear any more children. I am conflicted."

"But only between my idea and Mother's," Thor guessed, nodding when Loki rolled his eyes in affirmation. "Because though Father wishes you would choose a maiden, you never will. You don't like them, and you wouldn't like having to provide for her when you would rather be with your children or in the library with your books. As I thought. If you should so desire, I could get them both drunk and instigate a duel to see which one of them is truly worthy of being the husband of Prince Loki Odinson. Whoever loses will be put out of the misery he would surely experience if he knew he had lost the chance to have your fair hand in marriage."

"You flatter far too much, Brother, but I suspect your wife will enjoy that. Now, then. Leave me so I may wash, and then I will join you and Mother in the coronation preparations. But as soon as you are crowned, Thor, I expect my due," Loki said sternly.

Thor promised once more he would have what he desired, then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Smiling to himself, Loki switched legs and mused that, if he allowed Thor to be crowned king of Asgard, the results for him would be nearly the same. He would have his younglings back with him, where they belonged, but the only difference was the one that mattered. The one that burned him. He did not want Thor to be king. Did not want the brother he desired to be sitting on the throne when he was brash and selfish and ignorant of the ways of others. Neither did Loki want the throne. All he wanted could not be found in this realm. Once he was through with Asgard, he would begin the journey to filling the holes ripped into his heart. Until then, he would have a spot of good fun.


	3. Chapter Two

**Author's Note: Greeting to those of you who have made it past the first chapter! I'm not exactly used to writing long chapters, so bear with me if this becomes odd for you. I promise I am doing my best. This is the scene before the journey to Jotunheim, rewritten from my Loki muse's point of view. Enjoy. 3**

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**Epiphany**

**Chapter Two**

He had loved his brother with a flaming, heated passion ever since they were children, but as was the case with the men he had casually slept with, Thor did not return his feelings. No one ever did, and he was beginning to strongly believe they never would. But so be it. He was the dark prince of Asgard, the trickster with the tongue of silver, and he neither wanted nor needed anyone to aid him in achieving his goals unless he was using them. And he would use them all in the end. Thor and his parents and those who pretended to be his friends. In the end, he would use them all because they meant nothing to him. When he truly needed assistance, they were never there. He had broken in front of Thor time and time again, trying to convince his brother to help him, but Thor never had. And he both wanted and needed that help, wanted to see that his brother loved him and needed the pillar of support behind him to prove to Odin he was not acting alone.

Sneaking the Jotuns into Asgard by way of his secret pathways had been difficult since he was the only one who had ever used them before. He had drifted from realm to realm while his body went through its estrous cycle, mating with the men who were drawn to him until he carried a child. To be fair, it was not his fault his odd condition made his body go into heat and turn him into a loose whore. But, since he had so much experience with traveling between realms, it had been less difficult than he at first believed it would be. As soon as he had the path open, the Jotuns had taken it with ease and had snuck down to the armory while he strained his magic to protect and shield them. Since all Aesir were at the coronation, the Jotuns had been noticed far too late.

All had gone as planned from the invasion to Thor's anger with their father for not storming straight into Jotunheim and doing away with all of the monsters. Personally, Loki was rather fond of the idea of removing the beasts from existence considering Jormungandr's father was one of them, but his plan was not yet complete. Not yet. Gods, but he wanted to spin about on the tips of his toes and laugh with glee as he had when he was a child. But closer. Closer still. It would only be a matter of time before his middle child would be back in his arms, and to add to the pleasure of that, Thor would not take the throne any time soon. Bringing the Jotuns into Asgard had been difficult, as he knew it would be, but it was well worth the time and planning and risk. Soon, Loki Odinson would be a name to be feared among the cosmos, the name of a frightful mother, a true beast who would tear apart any who touched one of his beloved children. It was what they would deserve.

He carefully removed the smile from his face as he approached the place where Thor brooded, eyeing the table his brother had flipped in his rage. Food was scattered all over the floor along with plates and flatware, but his attention was focused solely on the sulking older boy sitting on the steps. Luckily for him, as a prince of Asgard, he had been in attendance to see what had become of the armory while Thor was supposed to be coroneted as king. He had been privileged to the sight of his brother being put in his place, and it was a lovely change from the usual praises and treats.

Had the situation been different, Loki would have offered a comforting shoulder to his brother and offered to do some cheap trick to bring him joy. Perhaps make a few birds fly from the ends of his fingers or fill the air with bursts of sparks and twisting ribbons. But the situation was what it was, and though he was not happy about his brother being the sullen little twit he normally was.

Slowly, Loki stepped from behind the pillar he had been hiding behind and moved to take his brother's side. Just as he was close to the steps, Thor's head tilted in acknowledgement, gaze still smoldering from the scolding he had received.

"It's unwise to be in my company right now, Brother," he huffed as Loki sat beside him, not that the trickster paid any mind to his brother's words. Soothing him was not part of the plan, not yet, and the plan had to continue on without a glitch. "This was to be my day of triumph."

Loki had the urge to laugh in his brother's face, to taunt him for not reaching the goal he had been trying to reach for nearly a thousand years, but instead, he remained calm and composed and placed a properly concerned expression on his face. "It'll come. In time."

The sound of unwanted footsteps reached his ears. "What's this?"

Damn. Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, the most obnoxious, arrogant bunch and Thor's best friends, and he had not yet convinced Thor to take the drastic measure he knew would cement his place in the palace. Worry washed over him. If his plan did not work, it would only be a matter of time before the incident in the armory was traced back to him. After all, he knew for a fact Heimdall had not seen them until it was too late, and how many masters of magic were there in Asgard? He knew of others who could use magic, but nearly ever citizen of Asgard knew his skills in magic were far superior to the rest of the population. It was one fact he rather enjoyed, but now, it could be the death of him. He could not be punished now, not when he was so close to having Jormungandr back in his arms. No matter what he had to do, what he had to sacrifice, he would do anything to bring back his lost child. One by one, he would bring them home where they belonged.

"If it's any consolation, I think you're right," he began, hoping to speak rapidly and quietly enough that none of the warriors heard his words. He had no worries about Volstagg considering the great oaf was none too bright, but Sif and Hogun were clever, and either one might be able to see where his words would take Thor's fragile, enraged mindset. "About the Frost Giants, about Laufey, about everything. If they found a way to penetrate Asgard's defenses once, whose to say they won't try again? Next time with an army."

"Exactly," Thor said, and Loki knew he had him. Knew his brother would say exactly what he wanted to hear and do exactly what he wanted to do.

Before his brother could say anything more, Loki broke in. Gods, but it did hurt to know he was planning to hurt the only man he had ever truly loved. And he was planning on it, on hurting Thor and souring his reputation, but his children went more to him than Thor's love or the throne of Asgard. "There's nothing you can do without defying Father." And when the spark of defiance entered Thor's eyes, he held back a wild smile and instead put on his shocked expression. Another good one. "No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I know that look."

"It's the only way to ensure the safety of our borders," Thor insisted, and there it was. The final piece in the puzzle.

"Thor," Loki said, pretending to be the voice of reason. "It's madness."

But they both needed it to be madness. That was the only way anything could be accomplished. And in the case of the three idiots and their keeper, Loki had all of the madness he needed to bring about the ultimate betrayal on the part of Thor Odinson.

"Madness?" Volstagg questioned, busying himself with food. The great, disgusting oaf. Loki fought the urge to wrinkle his nose and turned his gaze away from the little group, knowing they were out to enter a discussion he did not want to be a part of. "What sort of madness?"

"We're going to Jotunheim," Thor said, and the fire was restored to his eyes just like that.

Fandral's face darkened, and he combed his fingers through his hair as he turned his gaze upon Thor, a combination of disbelief and something near anger. "_What_? This isn't like a journey to Earth where you summon a little lightning and thunder, and the mortals worship you as a god. This is _Jotunheim_."

_Jotunheim is nothing_, Loki thought savagely, fisting one hand in the material of his tunic as he struggled not to shout out at the warriors who thought Jotunheim was such danger. It was _nothing_ compared to the other realms he had entered, realms full of death and shadow and destruction. Realms where he was worshipped as a god because a snap of his fingers could destroy dozens of their kind, and they knew he was a higher being than them. Their king was Hel's father. Loki had seduced him and mated with him while his people fought amongst themselves outside of the window, warring over subjects as little as territory while he had screamed his pleasure to the dark skies. But thinking of his helpless little daughter with those monsters made him ill. He could handle them with ease because they were nothing more than darker versions of the Aesir, but she was so young.

"My father fought his way into Jotunheim," Thor argued, and Loki was yet again reminded of that damned dream. The day his father had taken them both into the weapons vault to show them the Casket and tell them the story of the Frost Giants and how he had defeated them. "Defeated their armies and took their Casket. We would just be looking for answers."

"It is forbidden," Sif said, voice grave. Always worried about obeying Odin. Always trying to keep the boys from running off into disaster.

But Thor only laughed, and Loki smiled slightly at it. His foolish older brother who should have been far wiser than him, who should have known but did not. "My friends, have you forgotten all that we have done together? Fandral, Hogun. Who led you into the most glorious of battles?"

The words soured Loki's good mood, but he restrained the urge to remind Thor, coldly, that he had been left behind during all of those battles. None considered his magic enough to use as a weapon despite the fact it had saved them from trouble in Asgard multiple times. When Thor had taken him along simply to "visit" other realms, he had shielded and protected them all with his magic, but never had they thanked him for any of it. They had never complimented him once even though he had made it a point to say at least one nice thing to each of them about their skill in battle when they came back from winning yet again. But they had no problem poking fun at him when they returned, soused from too many jugs of mead and wanting to pick on someone to seem tougher than they were. No, Loki was not bitter at all.

"You did," Hogun admitted with a rare smile, drawing Loki out of his own private thoughts.

"And Volstagg," Thor said loudly, voice booming and echoing in the large room, "to delicacies so succulent you thought you'd die and gone to Valhalla?"

The oaf sniggered idiotically. "'You did."

"Yes! And who proved wrong all who scoffed at the idea that a young maiden could be one of the fiercest warriors this realm has ever known?" Thor asked, turning his attention to Sif.

Loki's blood boiled as he watched the two lock gazes, biting down hard on his tongue until the familiar taste of copper filled his mouth. It was common knowledge Odin wanted Thor to marry Sif because she was beautiful fierce, and more importantly, an Aesir woman. With her, Thor would have Aesir children worthy of taking the throne. Every so often, Loki wished nothing but daughters upon the man he loved because no female could be the king of Asgard. If Thor had no sons, he would be forced to declare one of his nephews King of Asgard. One of Loki's sons.

"I did," Sif said matter-of-factly, grinning at Thor warmly, and Loki resisted the urge to fling a sickness upon her.

"True, but I supported you, Sif." Thor turned to face them all, his expression set, eyes filled with fire. "My friends, we're going to Jotunheim."

When he was gestured to, Loki stood slowly and smoothed down the front of his tunic, nodding dutifully when Thor waved him to follow. They shared a glance, one that spoke volumes because they both knew who was in Jotunheim. One of Loki's sons. Jormungandr. And if the fire in Thor's eyes was anything to go by, the crown prince planned on bringing the child back with him.

But Loki could not let him.

Not yet.


	4. Chapter Three

**Epiphany**

**Chapter Three**

They saddled their horses in the stable, but Loki's mount snorted worriedly as he stamped the ground with nervous hooves. Always frightened. Always nervous. Gently, Loki stroked the stallion's nose and whispered to him as he tightened the saddle, ignoring the gallant words Thor spoke as he labored to instill bravado in all of them. The state of the horses was enough to tell Loki they were walking into a dangerous situation, but he did not care. They would go to Jotunheim, and that would be it. So he stroked his steed's nose and kissed the side of his head before mounting him, running a calming hand down the horse's neck. He did not know how much longer he would need his horse, but he planned on treating the animal as well as he ever had until he knew. Unlike his brother, who saw the horses as dumb animals, Loki knew they were intelligent, especially his, and he treated all of them with the respect deserved of such great beasts.

The ride to the Bifrost was slow yet quick, the ocean and the sky blurring together as they urged their mounts onward. Loki gripped the reins of his horse tightly as he watched them near the gateway into the other realms, knowing it was now too late to go back on his plan. No matter what happened next, he would have to follow through with everything to the end. He would have to face the Jotuns alongside his so-called friends, and from there, he would bring his little ones home. For good. And no one would be able to stop him because there would be no one left in his way.

When they were closed to the gate, they dismounted and walked the rest of the distance to where Heimdall, the Gatekeeper, stood. His golden armor blazed against his smooth, ebony skin. His amber eyes seemed to pierce each of them in turn, and Loki swallowed hard, hoping the man could not see what he was hiding in himself, the plan he was working to bring to fruition. He only hoped that, during the years of his adolescence, when he and the Guardian had shared a rather physical relationship, Heimdall had not learned to read his face. He had been careful to keep himself hidden on those nights, but it was always possible he underestimated his former lover. The gods knew Thor underestimated everyone, after all. Perhaps it was a familial trait.

"You leave this to me," he told Thor, pasting on one of his mischievous smiles as he turned to face the Guardian. Gods, but those eyes seemed to slice into him. "Good Heimdall—"

"You're not dressed warmly enough," the Gatekeeper interrupted, his expression never shifting, never changing from the empty one he always wore.

Loki felt the words dry in his mouth. Heimdall was not supposed to know where they were going. What they were planning to do. "I'm sorry?"

"Do you think that you can deceive me?" Heimdall asked.

For one terrible moment, Loki was certain the Guardian knew about his plan to bring his children back home and ruin the crown prince of Asgard. That all of his careful plotting behind closed doors had been for naught because, somehow, Heimdall had seen. Had seen the longing he carried deep within his soul, longing for the children whose beautiful faces he barely saw, whose little hands had only reached for him when he had been able to sneak into their realm and offer his body to their fathers. Had seen the reproach he wore like a veil to protect him from the light and love of Asgard, the accusation and blame he directed at Thor and the Allfather for taking his beautiful children away and leaving him fractured because they were a part of him, and they were gone. Had seen the books he studied, the scrolls he memorized by heart so he would know exactly how to go about the intricate scheme he had woven. Had seen the conversation in the hall as he worked Thor into a rage so the brash older man would rush into Jotunheim without thinking about the serious consequences of his actions. And if Heimdall had seen everything, or anything, his plans would be ruined.

"You must be mistaken—" he began, panic slowly surfacing in his mind.

"Enough!" Thor snapped, and Loki shut his mouth, fell back into line. Thankful his brother was taking over so he did not say the wrong thing at the wrong time. All he needed was one mistake to ruin everything. "Heimdall, may we pass?"

Heimdall's pale eyes flicked to meet Loki's, and the dark prince _knew_ the Guardian knew something about the Jotuns. Perhaps only that he had been the one to bring them into Asgard, but that could be enough if he was not careful. "Never has an enemy slipped my watch until this day. I wish to know how that happened."

_I could tell you_, Loki thought, and the slight twitch to Heimdall's lips made him freeze. Could the Gatekeeper hear his thoughts now?

"Then tell know one where we have gone until we've returned," Thor said, voice cold, chilly as ice, far harsher than Loki had ever managed to make his. Perhaps his brother did not understand Heimdall was far older than them, most likely far stronger. "Understand?"

Thor brushed past the Guardian and into the Bifrost, and the warriors followed him as they always did. Disrespectful little twit that he was, of course, but he had never respected those older or wiser than him Loki, however, remained behind, regarding the sight of his dark boots on the path, watching the others as they filed inside.

"What happened?" Volstagg asked as he passed. "Silver tongue turned to lead?"

Loki bit his tongue again to hold back a snarl and turned his attention to Heimdall, speaking as rapidly as he had in the hall so none of the others would be able to pick up the trace of his words. "Go to the Allfather as soon as we have left. My brother thinks to lead us into Jotunheim, and I am worried we will not make it back. The Frost Giants are bloodthirsty. Please, Heimdall."

"As you wish, little prince," Heimdall rumbled, waving him into the Bifrost.

Satisfied all would be well, Loki hurried into the Bifrost and took his position, running a hand over his hair to smooth his rumpled hair, a familiar nervous movement. Now, he was a bit afraid. He knew the Frost Giants were dangerous to deal with, had known when he offered to bring three of them in to take the Casket when he had been visiting Jormungandr, but going into their realm with a handful of warriors was infinitely more deadly. A fatal mistake. But how could he convince the others to remain behind after Thor had them ready for battle? Even if the older prince claimed to be searching for answers, it would only be a matter of time before he instigated a battle. And if it was possible to return to Asgard without Odin's assistance, Loki would snatch his son the moment he had a clear chance. As it was, he would need Odin to come to their rescue. How could he bring his little ones home if he was as dead and cold as the wastelands of Jotunheim?

The interior of the Bifrost was the same gold as the rest of the realm, the floor a slick, reflective black marked with white circles. A giant target with a golden center, and though Loki had to admit the room was beautiful, it was just another extension of power Odin had control over that he did not deserve. Other realms were still years beyond creating something such as the Bifrost, but Asgard had one, and Odin kept strict watch over it. Loki firmly believed the only reason Odin was still in a seat of power was because he had the quiet, powerful Heimdall to back his security measures concerning the gate. Of course, there were ways in and out of Asgard, slim branches of the Worlds Tree Loki knew how to traverse, but most did not know of them. In effect, their only choice was to come through the Bifrost, but any creature or being meaning a citizen of Asgard harm was immediately dealt with by the dark god who stood watch day in and day out.

Vaguely, he remembered the first night he had come to Heimdall, his body consumed by heat, needing something he could not name. Embarrassed to ask his parents. In front of the gateway, out of the sight of any who would come upon the Bifrost, he had given himself to the Guardian shamelessly. Wantonly.

He had never regretted it and still did not. What was there to regret?

They arranged themselves in front of the entrance of the Bifrost, and Loki shuddered slightly at the sound of Heimdall sliding his sword into the altar at his back. The sound of metal scraping metal had always unnerved him, but it seemed to effect him even more greatly so on that day. Pathetic, a son of Asgard getting goose bumps because of such a simple thing, but… Was he a son of Asgard? It was a question to be considered at another time.

The power of the Bifrost shot to the dome walls of the room in blazes of white-blue electricity, making the room thrum with heat and energy. Crackles of it shot below the floor, activating the mechanism that caused the sphere of the Bifrost to spin wildly. When the nozzle atop slid in front of them, that electricity shot out of it and into the cosmos. The sight always took Loki's breath away.

"Be warned," Heimdall said in a stern voice, somehow loud enough to be heard over the sound of the Bifrost laboring to open a pathway to the other realms. "I will honor my sworn oath to protect this realm as its Gatekeeper. If your return threatens the city of Asgard, Bifrost will remain closed to you and you'll be left to die in the cold waste of Jotunheim."

_A fitting death for a cold prince, his foolish brother, and the bumbling comrades willing to follow the fool into the wasteland_, Loki thought wryly, licking his lips. Better to die in Jotunheim than Asgard. At least in Jotunheim, no one would make snide comments about his magic during the funeral. Better yet, he would not be cursed with a funeral in Jotunheim. They would bury his body and leave him to rot, and that would be for the best.

"Couldn't you just leave the bridge open?" Volstagg asked, his voice containing a hint of fear. No surprises there. The oaf was heedlessly following Thor, after all, and Thor was not known for making grand and brilliant decisions.

But as always, Heimdall answered the idiotic question in a monotone voice. Loki admired him for it. "Leaving the bridge open would unleash the full power of the Bifrost and destroy Jotunheim with you upon it."

The words caught Loki's attention, and he locked them away for further use because he suddenly knew why Odin had been so careful to protect the Bifrost. What would he do if some foe managed to restrain Heimdall long enough to activate the Bifrost and use it to destroy an entire realm and all of its people? But, at the same time, Loki was troubled by this information. Why would Odin have a device that could destroy an entire realm if he was speaking peace across the realms? What would he need with such a thing? Oh, there were millions he could think of who would use the Bifrost to their advantage to win wars and destroy enemies, but Odin claimed not to want war. To want peace. To want to avoid war at all costs because the costs of war were too great to be paid ever again. Surely it was possible to build devices that could transport individuals without harming other realms. After all, Loki was able to travel back and forth between realms without destroying anyone or anything.

"I have no plans to die today," Thor stated.

"None do," Heimdall replied, and the final few inches of the sword were thrust into the altar.

Loki was the first one sucked through the gate, gasping from the force of power drawing him inward, out of Asgard and into the cosmos. It was strange, not wholly unpleasant but not an experience he was fond going through. And suddenly, his anger flamed anew. His children had all been taken through this when they were still infants, too tiny to understand what was going on around them. Young enough to be terrified and not old enough to explain how. Not old enough to be comforted with the words needed to explain everything.

By the gods, he would have Odin slaughtered for frightening his children. It was one thing to drag them across the cosmos to fathers who did not want them, fathers who did not even know they existed, but he would not forgive his father for scaring his children. He could not forgive that, not when Odin should have known how terrifying soaring through the stars in a column of white hot velvet could be, being hurtled so fast through the stars and the darkness of the sky. And yet, he had forced helpless infants to experience it before abandoning them.

It was _not_ acceptable, and Loki would make him pay.


	5. Chapter Four

**Epiphany**

**Chapter Four**

When Loki had come to Jotunheim on his own in order to see Jormungandr, he had not noticed much about the landscape other than it was cold and dark. The sun of Jotunheim gave a scant amount of light, barely more than the moon, and the land remained cast in darkness and shadow from morning to night until it began to seem as if the time never passed. It was also a planet of desolation, a true wasteland of ice and stone and little else. Even the homes and temple of the Frost Giants were built of stone, glazed with ice so everything glittered faintly in the light. Despite being heavily populated, though, the land around them was oddly silent. They had landed on a cliff, very near a chasm that seemed to continue on forever, and Loki imagined it was a terrible way to die. Keep on falling and falling until hope of dying was lost, and then the _collision_—

"We shouldn't be here," Hogun said quietly, voice barely loud enough for Loki to hear over the soft yet incessant howl of the wind.

Loki silently agreed with the grim warrior as his eyes darted back and forth over the landscape, taking in the harsh splinters of stone sticking from the ground as well as those hanging from huge, towering growths. The part of Jotunheim he was familiar with was less intimidating. It was large enough to be considered a town, though he always thought of it was a village because of how rustic it was. In that village lived Angrbooa, the Frost Giant he had laid with. The one he had conceived Jormungandr with. Time had not softened their harsh opinions of each other, but the Jotun was quick to take him before giving him as much time with his son as he could want. He could spend hours with his child wrapped safely in his arms for the price of one roll through the sheets. Needless to say, it was worth it.

"Let's move," Thor commanded, beginning the walk to the distant temple.

Though it seemed the courageous warriors had lost their bravado, Loki held tightly to his as he and the others fell in step beside his brother. When one of the large pillars of stone collapsed, shattering and splintering, Fandral jumped and Sif swore softly. Loki, in contrast, paid it no mind. During his visits to Jotunheim, stones had broken and snow had freed itself in huge avalanches. In a land such as this, it was hardly surprising it appeared everything was falling apart. There was barely any life left to the land, and the planet was dying. Simple enough. Eventually, he was sure Asgard would fall and die into its own wasteland. Perhaps a sprawling desert of gold dust remembered only by the planets it had conquered before its end. He relished the thought and reminded himself he was one step closer to making that fantasy a reality. All of Asgard would fall, and if he had to be the catalyst that caused it, so be it. He would ruin the entire realm and leave it broken in his dust as he walked away.

They came upon the temple moments later without having seen a single Jotun, and Loki was beginning to worry. Usually, they were everywhere. Perhaps disguised because they were the same color of the ice-laden stones, but he had always been able to see them. Had taught himself how. But the longer they walked, the more obvious it became to him none of them were in sight. None of them were casually roaming the land like they were known to. It made him worry.

"Where are they?" Sif asked as they neared the very large doors leading into the temple.

"Hiding," Thor replied, the word making Loki's stomach twist, "as cowards always do."

Perhaps they were hiding, but it was not because they feared the entrance of a handful of Aesir into their land. Never. Loki had been in their realm long enough to know that, while the Jotuns despised his kind greatly, they were not afraid of them. Never had been. They were bitter about the defeat they had suffered and angry because they no longer had possession of the Casket, but they were not afraid. It was why the three he had brought into Asgard had been all too happy to attempt to retrieve their Casket. But Thor had no way of knowing that. It seemed the fact his little brother had mated and birthed a child with a Frost Giant had slipped his mind. If they were afraid of the Aesir, why mate with Loki? Why enter into such a vulnerable situation where death could have been easily dealt if they were afraid? Why allow him entrance into their realm as much as he possibly could come so he could see his child? Why not attack as soon as they had been dropped onto the ledge, when they would have been weakest?

"You've come a long way to die, Asgardians," the familiar voice of Laufey, king of Jotunheim, growled from the darkness.

Though the sound should have put him further on edge, Loki relaxed upon hearing the voice of the king. After all, Laufey had seen his son. How simple would it be to recognize him as Jormungandr's mother when they had the same exact features and coloring?

But Thor was not daunted. Would not have been smart enough to be daunted. Laufey was a few feet taller and physically much stronger, but Thor would not have cared had he known. "I am Thor Odinson!"

"We know who you are," Laufey said, and Loki's eyes finally picked him out of the darkness. Sitting atop his throne, scarlet gaze glowing against the darkness around him. The king of Jotunheim who had nearly defeated Odin and the Asgardian army. Loki had respect for the Jotun, but had the choice been entirely up to him, he would obliterate Laufey and any other Frost Giant who stood in the way of his path to his child. Simple enough.

"How did your people get into Asgard?" Thor demanded, yet again not thinking to show any respect to show someone far older and wiser the respect Laufey deserved. Not asking kindly. Not asking for peaceful entrance in Jotunheim. Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ boy.

Laufey titled his head, and Loki felt as though the king's eyes pierced his very being. He thought he saw a flash of recognition and offered a quick smile to confirm what he thought the king was thinking. But the Jotun's words made him wonder if Laufey knew more about him than he was supposed to. "The House of Odin is full of traitors."

It could have meant anything. It could have meant an Aesir, _any_ Aesir, was responsible for any act of treason, but Loki sensed the king _knew_. Knew who he was and what he had done, perhaps even why he had done it. Every Jotun he had come into contact with knew he was an Aesir, the son of Odin and the mother of Jormungandr, so was it so unbelievable Laufey might not have heard his name? Perhaps even told about him when he began to slip in and out of Jotunheim under the power and cover of his own magic. Laufey was not supposed to know he was a son of Odin, a prince of Asgard. If the Jotun wanted to preserve the peace treaty with Asgard, he would have to turn Loki's name to Odin for punishment.

But then he saw a flash of something—not quite emotion, not quite thought—that told him Laufey would say nothing about what he had done.

"Do not dishonor my father's name with your lies!" Thor shouted, his grip on Mjolnir tightening just slightly. Just enough to prove he was dancing on the knife's edge of anger. Good. Very good.

Laufey stood swiftly, revealing his true height, a dark silhouette with glowing eyes in the darkness. Words cruel as he spoke. "Your father is a murderer and a thief! And why have you come? To make peace? You long for battle. You crave it. You're nothing but a boy trying to prove himself a man."

As he spoke, Jotuns filed out from their iced-rock surroundings, tall and stocky, broad of shoulder and deep of chest, as cruel and cold as the wasteland they lived in. Some of them Loki recognized and he instantly softened his posture, widening his eyes at them innocently and offering small, secret smiles the rest of his little war party would not see. Better for Thor not to know he knew their enemies well enough to know their names and the names of their family members. Better for Thor not to know several of them had children the same age as Loki's own, and he had sat with them and spoke civilly, even in a friendly manner, as the children played in the snow. It made his plan work seamlessly if Thor had no idea. If Thor did know, there would be a discussion looming in the future about why he knew the names of any Jotuns if he had only slept with one of them the one time before following Odin's decree about him not returning to seek his children. Better to keep their dear father appearing to be a total villain who had broken his youngest son's spirit. It would do no one any good to know Loki had gone against the old man's word as soon as he could gather his magic to do so.

Better for the brainless lout that was his brother to not know the Jotuns truly were not different than the Aesir when it came down to what mattered. Though the Aesir did not cast their children away for not being strong or hardy enough, everything else was nearly the same. If Thor knew that, it would make them real to him, and he had to believe they were monsters. Loki needed him to finish breaking the treaty, and to do that, the Jotuns had to be monsters.

Loki tilted his head to view his "friends", unintentionally catching Fandral's eye and groaning silently when the man nodded once at him before pressing a closed fist to his heart. The gods be damned, the man did not take a hint. As far as Loki was concerned, he was never going to take an Aesir as his husband, and he was most certainly not going to choose the dashing, hopeless romantic who chased nearly every beautiful woman in Asgard. Who would take him seriously if the man he married was one who nearly every lady in court had had as a suitor at one time or another. Seriously or not. Only one Aesir had ever caught his eye. The bumbling, blond fool who had led them into Jotunheim with the pretty thought they could demand answers, break the spirits of the Jotuns, and walk out all without breaking a sweat. Or who thought they could come in and kill as many Jotuns as it took to get answers until they were satisfied.

He hoped Fandral was severely wounded, perhaps killed, when Thor spurred the battle they all knew he wanted to cause. It would save a lot of trouble later on.

"Well," Thor said, voice low. Dangerous. "This boy has grown tired of your mockery."

All around them, the Jotuns prepared for battle. Hands morphed into frozen blades dotted with thorns of ice. It would be soon. Very soon. Thor's words were angering them, and unlike the Aesir, the Jotuns would only take so much before retaliating.

As was expected of him, Loki stepped forward until he could whisper directly into his brother's ear. The close contact was intimate, and it stirred a heat in his stomach that made the goose bumps rising on his skin quickly fade away. "Thor, stop and think. Look around you, we're outnumbered."

"Know your place, Brother," Thor growled, voice heavy and dripping with disdain. He _did_ crave it. Craved to fight the Jotuns. To slaughter them. To leave their frozen bodies bleeding in the snow. And for some reason, Loki found himself incredibly attracted to him for it. It was the first time the trickster had seen his own vindictiveness mirrored in another person, much less his golden brother. The Thor before him now was one who was not afraid to hurt another, and it was exciting.

"You know not what your actions would unleash." Laufey's gaze softened, saddened, and locked with Loki's, as if he was trying to send a message across the frozen ground. One just between the two of them. "I do. Go now, while I still allow it."

A Jotun stepped directly in front of them, towering over them, and with a slight tremor, Loki recognize Angrbooa with a silent gasp. The father of his child loomed above them, crimson gaze cruel and cold and unforgiving. Loki hated the Jotun before them most of all and only hoped the beast had been doing his best to care for their son in Loki's absence. Had he not, he would pay for it just as Odin would pay for taking Jormungandr away.

"We will accept your most gracious offer," Loki said after a pause, bowing his head slightly to the king before him. Best to show the respect Thor refused to.

He did not respond to the confused expression Thor sent his way, only drifted away from his brother, turning on heel as if making his way back to the Bifrost sight. Making it clear he wanted to end things before they moved toward violence. The others would remember this, and he needed them to.

"Come on, Brother," he commanded softly.

He felt Thor hesitate before he turned, and Loki half-wondered if he had convinced Thor to abandon his plan of attack before it was too late.

But if he had, Angrbooa fixed that for him. "Run back home, _little princess_."

"Damn," Loki whispered softly, recognizing the pet name the beast had given him when they were in bed together. Smiling to himself because he _knew_ Thor would believe the words were for him, and that was enough to push the crown prince over the edge. He was so damn sensitive, almost as sensitive as a girl. And he proved it when Loki heard the metallic sound of Mjolnir shifting in Thor's hand, spinning just in time to see his brother slam the hammer into Angrbooa, sending the Jotun flying headfirst into the rock.

"Next?" Thor teased.

Loki smiled and retrieved one of his knives, preparing for the battle.


	6. Chapter Five

**Epiphany**

**Chapter Five**

Thor had been banished. And Loki had stood there, listening to their father degrade his brother. He had tried to step in to defend his brother, tears blurring his vision, but Odin had ignored him. As always. And had reclaimed Mjolnir, sending Thor into exile with nothing but his physical strength.

Loki's face was still hot with anger at himself as he stood in the shadowed part of the room, staring down at his hands. During the battle, one of the Jotuns had grasped his forearm moments after Volstagg had been burned by the same touch. But Loki knew he could not be burned even as his armor cracked and fell from his arm in little scales. The shock had come when his arm had darkened to the blue of the creature holding him, marred with the lines all Jotuns had upon their skins. As if he was one of them. It had never happened before, not when Angrbooa was sweating over him and not when he had held Jormungandr in his arms. He was not even sure he knew what happened, not entirely. Of course, he had always wondered if he was truly Aesir. But… He was not… Was he?

"We should never have let him go," Volstagg said from his position in his seat, a goblet of mead in one hand. His arm was still singed with the handprint of the Jotun who had grabbed him.

Sif shook her head as she uncrossed and re-crossed her ankles, dark eyes filled with the light of the fire. For once, Loki found her beautiful and understood why she and Thor were so close. Why Thor would _want_ to be close to her. "There was no stopping him."

"Well, at least he's only banished, not dead," Fandral pointed out, leaning forward in his seat. He had been about to continue on to his room when Loki decided to remain in the room, and so the man who wanted to wed him had remained as well. "Which is what we'd all be if that guard hadn't told Odin where we'd gone."

Loki swallowed hard and examined his hand again, expecting it to turn blue, as he watched Hogun apply the healing salve he had mixed to Volstagg's wound. His art with potions and salves was another reason the warriors stood his presence. Along with being Thor's brother and Fandral being in love with him, it somehow managed to be enough. But now, he was only the dark prince who mixed them salves and potions so they never had to go crawling to a healer and admit shameful truths.

"How did the guard even known?" Volstagg asked as Hogun worked more of the salve onto his arm.

Loki lifted his head, pinning the larger man down with his eyes. "I told him."

"What?" Fandral asked, nose wrinkling in confusion. Very telling. But then again, how many people would believe Loki had been the reason their mischief was discovered when he was known as a liar and a trickster? Nevertheless, Loki thought he saw a glint of approval in his would-be husband's eyes.

"I told him to go to Odin after we left," Loki said, turning his eyes to meet Fandral's. Yes, that was approval. Perhaps the man who wanted to possess his hand in marriage was pleased with him for finally knowing when it was time to draw the line between playing dangerous little games and confessing so their safety became the priority. For some reason, he was pleased with satisfying the man who wanted between his sheets… And between his legs. "He should be flogged for taking so long. We should never have reached Jotunheim."

"You told the guard?" Volstagg demanded, voice rising in an appalled shout.

Apparently, the oaf was now deaf as well as fat. Lovely. "I saved our lives. _And_ Thor's. I had no idea Father would banish him for what he did." And that was the truth. He thought Thor would be punished, yes, but exiled? No. That was an unexpected development, but he knew he could work with it.

"Loki." Sif's voice was low, cajoling, as she stood from her seat. Her clothes were red and gold, Thor's colors, striking in the firelight, but they served to bring Loki back to his senses. Beautiful or not, this woman could not be allowed to near Thor again. She could not be allowed to seduce him into a loveless marriage. There was only one person who knew how to make Thor happy, and _he_ was standing right in front of her whether she knew it or not. And she would come to know it in time. All would. "You must go to the Allfather and convince him to change his mind."

"And if I do, then what?" he demanded, watching her expression become guarded at his harsh tone. Good. She needed to be on guard around him. "I love Thor more dearly than any of you, but you know what he is. He's arrogant. He's reckless He's dangerous. You saw how he was today. Is that what Asgard needs from its king?"

With quick, rapid steps, he left the room and his "friends" behind and began his journey to the weapons vault. He needed to know. Needed to know the truth, and the first step to learning the truth, the one behind _everything_, was to rest his hands upon the precious Casket Odin had stolen from Jotunheim.

He gripped the Casket in his hands, breath coming in quick pants as he waited to see if his skin would darken once more to the blue of the Frost Giants. Lied to. _Lied to_! All of these years, the man who claimed to love him was not his father, and the only woman who favored him above Thor was not his mother. He should have known. He had never belonged to the golden world of Asgard. Had always been the dark imperfection, the blurry smear, the black shadow in the land of sunlight. Often, he had entertained the thought of who his true parents were and what he would do when they found him and came to claim him. He wondered. He dreamed. But the reality was startling. _Painful_. A Frost Giant. A Jotun. A _monster_. He was the fear of Asgard, the demon the women feared would sneak into their homes at night to slit the throats of their children. Always, he should have known. The warmth of Asgard could not touch him, and he should have known why. Did know as he watched his fingers darken.

"Stop!" The word rang out clear, the voice belonging to Odin Allfather, and Loki _knew_. He and the Casket were one in the same, were they not? Taken from Jotunheim by the so-called king. Had Laufey known? Had that been why he looked so forlorn when he said he knew what Thor's actions would cause? Had that been the secret message he hoped to convey to him when their gazes had locked in Jotunheim? For the sake of the gods, did Laufey _know _Loki was a Jotun?

His gaze rested on his hands, deep blue. The markings that rose along his skin, soft and delicate swirls. "Am I cursed?" But of course, the question was foolish. He knew what he was. Just not who he was. Who he had been before he had been yanked from the realm of his birth.

"No," Odin answered, resigned. And Loki sensed his _father_ knew what he knew. Knew that he knew the truth. Had been waiting for this conversation for a long time.

"What am I?" Loki asked, trying to remember. Trying to remember if he had been different as a child. But of course he had. Quieter. More reserved. Developed differently with different parts and, oh gods, was any of what he had experienced normal for a Frost Giant?

Odin's voice was firm, but he sensed a waver. Heard it. Knew it was there because the words were a lie. "You're my son."

Summoning all of his strength, Loki released his hold on the Casket and turned, knowing he was now what he had been then. Skin darkest blue. Eyes scarlet. But even as he displayed himself, he knew it was fading away. Knew it could not hold. "What more than that?" But when Odin did not reply, he turned and began to advance, feeling the burn of tears in his eyes. Shameful though it was, he could not hope to control his emotions at a time like this. His mind was swirling with emotion, but he tried to lock most of it away in the back of his mind, lock it away where it could not interfere with his purpose. And his voice rose again in a question, one that would officially destroy the illusion of his Asgardian life. "The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?"

Steps halted at the foot of the stairs Odin stood on. Gazed up at the man who had claimed to be his father for years. And when a new sense, a new image, came to him, he seized upon it and grasped it tightly, held it like a lifeline until it made sense of itself. A man, very young. Not Odin. With rich, curling golden hair around his face. Lips turning blue because whatever he was, he was not suited for the cold of Jotunheim. Shrugging out of some kind of jacket, lips spilling forth some kind of nonsense, and Loki knew it was the face of his true savior. The one whose face and name flitted through his dreams, never lingering long enough for him to make any sense of it. But he knew. The man had saved him from whatever fate he had been left to. All Loki wanted was a confirmation and an explanation.

"No." Odin paused, gaze down, then lifted it and said, very slowly. "In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple, and I found a young man with a baby. Small for a giant's offspring. Abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son."

"Laufey's son," Loki echoed, gaze turned away as he tried to hold on to his fluttering emotions. A tear or two had already escaped, and there was nothing he could do about that. "And the young man? He had… Saved me?"

"Yes," Odin said.

Some man, some vague figure from his past, had found him in Jotunheim and had saved him? Had risked death if the image in his head was anything to go by to save him? From what fate? Odin claimed he had been left to die, but had that truly been it? Had there been more the god had not seen? After all, the Frost Giants would kill their young if they were already too weak, and if he had been born small, he would have been killed or cast away. And some young man had saved him. Had reached out in a moment of kindness to protect him. Had taken off a jacket he sorely needed against the winter cold, and Loki wondered if the jacket had been used to wrap around him. To keep _him_ warm while the man who had saved him, likely mortal, had chosen to suffer.

"Why?" he demanded suddenly, the fervor of his pain, of his confusion, breaking free from him before he could control it. "Why would he help me? _You_ were knee-deep in Jotun blood, why would you take me?"

"You were an innocent child," Odin said, and though the tone of his voice was meant to soothe, it only addled Loki further. How could the god act as though this situation were not as dire as it was? How could he act as though finding out one was a Jotun foundling ripped from the jaws of death by some nameless mortal was _okay_?

"No," Loki argued, and he focused his attention on his _father_. "You took me for a purpose. What was it?" Silence. And he screamed it, screamed because he could no longer control himself, because the anger and pain he had been carrying finally had an outlet, and he _wanted_ that outlet. "Tell me!"

"I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day. Bring about an alliance, bring about permanent peace. Through you." Odin's voice was quiet, fond, as if he had been admiring a painting or a tapestry of great beauty. As if his adopted son was not beginning to fall apart in front of him because of all of the fragile seams that had been holding them together were now shredded and ripped and frayed, and there was no way to repair them. Not now.

"What?" Loki croaked, no longer caring his face was wet with tears, no longer caring he sounded as weak and pathetic as a woman.

Odin averted his gaze. "But those plans no longer matter."

And suddenly, it made sense. All of the shun he had received while Thor had been placed on a pedestal. The fact his mother had been the one to raise him because Odin was too busy with Thor. Because he was being raised to be submissive, to sign a peace treaty with Thor one day, to be the perfect king for the kingdom no one wanted. Saved by a mortal, raised by a god. Only to be the throwaway king, the one who would end the war so the citizens of Asgard could live in peace while he lived in a wasteland most of them feared. Every unclear subject in his life was suddenly clarified. Why Odin stole his children from him and sent them away where he could not reach them. Why no woman would touch him or tease him like they did Thor while the men he approached brushed him casually away despite the status a marriage could offer. It all made sense. In a cruel, twisted way, it all made sense.

"So I am no more than another stolen relic," he said, drawing on his pain, his anger, his fear to nail the words home. Because he wanted Odin to feel this, "locked up here until you might have use of me? Who was the mortal who saved me? I saw his face. _Who was he_?"

"He was a friend," Odin said, and discomfort showed through in his expression, his movements. He was feeling Loki's pain, and it was making him guilty, and that was _good_. "Why do you twist my words?"

"You could have told me what I was from the beginning, why didn't you?" Loki asked, and he saw it. The glimmer in Odin's eye. Not over the subject, no. The mortal, then. The mortal who had saved him. The one Odin seemed so very unwilling to name. And with the name, Loki could find him. Was there a reason Odin did not want him to meet his savior?"

"You're my son," Odin said, and no, that was not it. His words were false. Not just because Loki now knew who his true father was. Because it was all wrong. Everything he was saying. His claims of love. His calm words. All false. All a lie. But lies for a reason, a reason Loki did not know but realized he wanted to know. He wanted to know badly. "I wanted only to protect you from the truth."

Loki wanted to laugh. "Why? Because I'm the monster parents tell their children about at night?"

"No, no," Odin insisted, but he was faltering, stumbling. Losing his resolve.

"You know, it all makes sense now!" Loki released the pain for a moment, seizing the anger, holding it in a death grip, squeezing all of the power from it so he might have use of it. "Why you favored Thor all these years. Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!"

And Odin collapsed, and Loki knew.

He knew.


	7. Chapter Six

**Epiphany**

**Chapter Six**

When Odin had been placed in his bed and Loki crowned king of Asgard, the former prince wanted nothing more than to use his scepter to blast everything in his path to his room. His muscles were trembling with hidden desire as he closed the door, ordering the servants waiting for him to leave and not return until they were beckoned if they knew what was good for them. Once they were gone, he opened the hidden pathway between his balcony and Jotunheim and leapt freely into it, emitting the wild cry of a caged beast now freed as he allowed himself to be yanked through the cosmos and deposited on the cold snow outside of the familiar Jotun village. Tears streamed from his eyes as he forced himself to his feet, his limbs shaking with restrained energy and delight. He sprinted into the village, boots crunching through the snow and ice, hollering his joy to the cold mountains. No longer was he to be alone. No longer. Odin was encased in the Odinsleep, and Loki was free to begin.

He knew better than to attempt to locate his son in Angrbooa's home now that the Jotun was dead, so he skipped past it and found himself at the door of the Jotun orphanage in that particular village. No use walking. He pushed open the door and stepped inside, dusted with snow, his chest heaving as he scanned the interior of the room. His breaths were rapid and jagged from the exertion of his running, and when the Jotun woman who ran the orphanage saw him standing there, she offered him a small smile and waved for him to follow her.

His feet were so light upon the ground he felt he was flying as he followed her down a short hallway to a room filled with four small beds. Sitting on the windowsill, wrapped in a blanket, was his baby, his son, his beautiful _child_, and he let out a cry of elation as he covered the distance of the room in three broad bounds. He stretched his arms out just as Jormungandr turned, and if the boy was shocked to see his mother in such a state, it did not show as his lips stretched into a wide smile. He jumped into Loki's arms as soon as Loki was close enough, and the new king caught his son with another sweet cry. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he hugged Jormungandr against his chest, peppering the boy's dark hair, so much like his, with kisses. His little one, his beloved, the mirror image of him in every way, and he would be bringing the child home. It seemed too sweet a dream to be true.

But it was. And as he sat on the throne of Asgard, remembering the overwhelming happiness he felt at appearing back in his room with Jormungandr in his arms. That night, he slept peacefully. No night terrors. He fell into slumber with his child curled safely against his chest, one tiny hand tangled in his hair. It had been the sweetest slumber, better even than those when Thor had stayed the night with him to soothe his tears away at the loss of his children.

Nothing, he suspected, could ever be so sweet.

The sound of the door opening caught his attention, and he forced himself from his fond memories of the night before as he watched Lady Sif and the Warriors Three hurry into the room. He vaguely remembered he had told none of them he had been crowned king.

"Allfather, we must speak with you urgently," Sif said, pausing when she reached the edge of the stairs. The shock shone clear in her eyes, as it did in all of theirs, and he saw a flash of longing in Fandral's. As was expected. The warrior would desire him even more so now that he was king. But how would the lot of them feel if they knew one of his monster children was waiting in his room, playing with his mother?

"My friends," he said, enunciating the words loudly, trying to add some emotion to them. If he was going to be their king, at least for the nonce, he wanted to fit the role as best he could.

Fandral was the first to speak, the first to descent the stairs separating them, and Loki could see the desire and passion and _want_ in the warrior's eyes. "Where's Odin?"

"Father has fallen into the Odinsleep," Loki explained, seeing the alarm fill three pairs of eyes while the fourth pair remained as they were. No matter what occurred, it seemed Fandral would never fall out of love with him. Good. Perhaps he could use that later. After he introduced his would-be fiancé to his child and gauged his reaction on having a mutant half-breed child in Asgard. Or, perhaps, Jormungandr was fully Jotun and had inherited the glamour Loki had always had to hide his Jotun skin. First Odin's magic, then his. "Mother fears he may never awaken again."

"We would speak with her," Sif said, voice beginning to quiver. Finally understanding that the control in Asgard had shifted from what she was comfortable with to what she was nearly afraid of. And that was good. Everyone should learn to fear a mother who has been scorned.

"She has refused to leave my father's bedside. You can bring your urgent matter to me." He locked eyes with the lot of them as he rested his hand upon his chest, then slowly stood. Felt his cape, deepest green, like his eyes, whisper as it fell around him in soft folds. He saw Fandral twitch where he stood, no doubt resisting the urge to come forward. And if he did, Loki would let him. How much would it shake the warriors up to know one of their number adored him? Just to see Fandral twitch again, he tapped the end of the scepter once on the floor, the sound echoing through the room. "Your king."

They all stared at him, as if trying to digest the news, and as they were slow, he allotted them the time. But then, slowly, the four of them kneeled, and Sif forced out her request. "My King, we would ask that you end Thor's banishment."

_And give up your place as king_. The words were unspoken, but he did not have to be a mind-reader to catch the unspoken thought of her request. As if he would be foolish enough to do that. He scoffed softly as he began to slowly descend the stairs to where they kneeled.

"My first command cannot be to undo the Allfather's last," he explained to her, steps softy emphasizing his words. "We're on the brink of war with Jotunheim. Our people need a sense of continuity in order to feel safe in these difficult times. All of us must stand together for the good of Asgard." He stopped on the landing just above the last set of steps, leaving only a few steps between himself and the warriors before him.

Sif lunged at him, hatred burning in her eyes, but Fandral caught one arm while Hogun caught the other. Good boys. Loki did not trust Hogun, never would, because he had the sense the warrior knew what he had been plotting to an extent when none of them had the business of knowing anything. But he made a note to reward Fandral, perhaps with the kiss the foolish man had been seeking from him for so many years. Perhaps more. After all, Loki's body was no longer sacred to him.

"Yes, of course," Fandral said, lips quirking in an uneasy smile.

"Good. Then you will wait for my word," Loki said, glad the subject had been dismissed.

"If I may," Volstagg began, and Loki stabbed the man with his eyes, wanting to stab him with the sharp edges of his scepter. End the man's wretched existence once and for all. "Beg the indulgence of Your Majesty to perhaps reconsider—"

"We're done," Loki snapped.

Slowly, the warriors filed out, Sif glaring at him, and he returned her fiery expression with one of cold indifference, no longer caring about her feelings. He never had. She had been a means to an end, just like the others. All foolish enough to follow Thor into the throes of battle even if it meant death for them all. And in the end, their imprudence had led to him ascending to the throne of Asgard. Perhaps that was why Sif was so bitter. Not just because he was keeping her _beloved_ Thor away from her, but because he would not even have the option if it was not for her. She could have aided him then, helped him reason Thor out of his insanity, but no. She had made her decision, and he had made his.

And now he was king of Asgard.

After his matters for the day had been dealt with, he shrugged out of his helmet and went to Odin's room to play the part of the dutiful son. Jormungandr waited for him within and silently held out his arms, and Loki picked the boy up without hesitation. He sat on the other side of his father's bed, his son balanced in his arms, and hoped Odin could feel the child he had cast out so near to him. He hoped it burned the sleeping man to know his attempts at concealing what Loki was had been unsuccessful, and his attempts to rid Asgard of Loki's mutant brood would be just as ineffective. Perhaps, if he was quick and concise about it, all of his little ones would be running through the halls and rooms of Asgard's palace when his "father" awoke from the Odinsleep. And when Jormungandr grew a bit restless sitting on his lap, he sat the boy at the foot of Odin's bed with careful instruction to stay away from the golden glow encasing his father. It was enough to have his son so close.

Loki swallowed his joy at seeing his son quietly playing with the hem of the shirt he wore, a deep green to match Loki's own tunic, and placed a concerned, worried expression on his face as he beheld Odin. "I never get used to seeing him like this." But he had, long ago, and rather enjoyed the times when the king slept. Those were the times he would spend whole weeks away from Asgard visiting his little ones, singing them to sleep and playing with them and tossing them in the air just to hear their delighted laughter. Damn Odin and his decree. Loki missed his children desperately.

But the pain had been soothed by the balm that was his middle son. Mischievous green eyes met him, and he winked at his son while his mother continued to worry over Odin.

"He's put it off for so long now, that I fear…" She stretched out a hand and reached through the golden glow encasing Odin, stroking his hand gently. Her concern was admirable, but he saw the spark of happiness in her eye when her gaze fell upon her grandson.

"How long will it last?" Loki asked her, gazing down at the man who had lied to him. Even though he had not voiced his true question, he was sure she heard it. _Do I have time to gather the others?_

She shrugged mournfully, a ghost of smile reaching her lips when Jormungandr made a small pink bird composed entirely of glittering light appear in the air. Already, the boy had Loki's talent for magic. "I don't know. This time it's different. We were unprepared." _I could be wrong, but I think you do have the time to bring the others home._

"So why did he lie?" Loki stretched out a hand and watched the bird land on his fingers, only to take flight once again. _Why not tell me what I was instead of steal my children away from me and wound me as he has done?_

"He kept the truth from you so that you would never feel different," she said, urgency in her words as she met his gaze. _I do not know why because I would have told you the truth from the beginning._ "You are our son, Loki, and we, your family." _You are my son, Loki, and I, your mother._ "We mustn't lose hope your father will return to us." _If you plan on bringing your children home, you must not delay because he could wake up without us expecting it._ "And your brother." _And before Thor comes home._

"What hope is there for Thor?" he asked, startled. _Please tell me my beloved is coming home, and that he will accept my children and me for what he cannot change._

"There's always a purpose to everything your father does," she replied. _Thor will come to terms with who you are and will love you no less._

The hidden meanings to all of their words floated in the air between them, the unspoken love of a mother and her favored, beloved son. Though his father might not have cared for him, Loki could not deny that Frigga loved him as if he had been born from her womb instead of that of some Frost Giantess. She always had.

Jormungandr laughed as a dozen blue birds joined the pink one. "Look, Momma, look!"

And in the glowing face of his son, Loki saw what he had been searching for since he had begun his plan. He saw hope. Love and hope. And they were just what he needed to see.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Epiphany**

**Chapter Seven**

He had watched Thor from a distance, watched his brother struggle to fight the mortals so he could gain the chance to reclaim Mjolnir. And she had rejected him. The sight of that gave Loki the resolve he needed to make sure Thor never returned home. Despite his desperate desire for his brother, he had seen the way the mortal woman reacted to his defeat. She loved him. And, for the nonce, it would be best if he pursued her love rather than attempt to return to Asgard. He could not return before Loki had collected the rest of his younglings, and no matter what he had to say to keep Thor on Midgard, he would say it. He only hoped his silver tongue would yet again keep him out of trouble long enough to extract himself from the situation. After his little ones were with him once again, he would leave Asgard and the throne and his lying bastard of a king behind. And on the way, he would seduce Thor, bring the golden prince with him. They would raise his children, _their_ children, together. Have more. Have a true family. It would be beautiful. But first, he had to keep Thor safely away from the politics of being king.

Once the one who called himself the Son of Coul left the small interrogation room, Loki used one of his secret paths and simply appeared in a Midgardian suit. The shock of seeing Thor after so long made his stomach clench, and the mud-streaked shirt his brother wore drew out the deep, bottomless blue of his eyes and set off the molten gold of his hair. The scrape on his cheek even gave him a sense of vulnerability accentuated by the shocked joy in his gaze. His brother was so happy to see him. And here he was, about to do his best to tear their family apart.

"Loki!" Thor breathed, the word filled with so much relief and surprise he sounded like a dehydrated man who had come upon an oasis in the depths of the unforgiving desert. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you," Loki admitted, allowing some of his own pain to creep into his voice. He wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and wrap his arms around his brother's middle, bury his face against the filthy shirt and sob with relief at finding Thor mostly okay.

But it did not matter that he loved Thor still despite the distance between them and the circumstance they had found themselves in. If Thor had just stood by his side and demanded Odin allow his children to remain in Asgard, they would not have to do this. Jotunheim would not have had to happen. They could be back in Asgard now, and Thor could be king, and all of Loki's children would be running about the throne room, throwing little birds and flowers into the air because all of them had their mother's magic. But Thor had made his decision, as had Odin, and now it was too late to go back. Too late to change a damn thing. And Loki would not let him now if he tired.

Thor's face clouded, and Loki saw the beginnings of panic in his brother's expression. Certainty that the only reason Loki had come was to give him bad news. That hurt. "What's happened? Tell me. Is it Jotunheim? Let me explain to Father."

"Father is dead," Loki stated simply, allowing the words to roll off of his tongue.

It was the lie he had worked up as he bathed his son, the lie that would keep Thor on Midgard where he belonged until the mess on Asgard was cleaned up. Hopefully, it would be enough to discourage him from coming home. After Loki had salted his wounds a bit, that was. It made his chest ache, knowing he would hurt his brother with every word he spoke, but he had to. And to do it, he summoned up the nights he had wept on the floor while Thor stood by and idly watched. The days he spent weeping in the garden from sheer want of his brother, then later want of his children, and further on, want of death, and Thor never came to comfort him. Cruel things his brother had said to him in the grip of one of his famous tempers, that his bastard children deserved to be with their fathers because how could Loki ever raise them when he was so much of a mess himself? And Thor had never loved him, not the way Loki loved Thor, and that was enough to make his pain go away.

Thor's eyes widened, childishly so, and Loki saw the shimmer of tears. "What?"

"Your banishment, the threat of a new war, it was too much for him to bear. You mustn't blame yourself. I know you loved him. I tried to tell him so, but he wouldn't listen." Loki watched one crystalline tear free itself from Thor's eye and felt a lump in his throat, then swallowed it down when he thought of Jormungandr. His little baby boy, safe in the golden warmth of Asgard instead of the cold cruelty of Jotunheim, and Thor could have helped keep him there long ago, but he had not. And Loki continued with that thought implanted firmly at the forefront of his mind. "It was so cruel to put the hammer within your reach knowing you could never lift it." Another pause, watching Thor's brow furrow. "The burden of the throne has fallen to me now."

His brother's head lifted, hope tucked deep inside the pain, but it was there. He hesitated to ask what Loki knew he would, afraid he would be denied. "Can I come home?"

"The truce with Jotunheim is conditional upon your exile." The lies came more smoothly now that he thought of those nights. Those damned nights.

"_Father, please, do not take him from me! You have already taken my daughter and my firstborn son, and I cannot sleep anymore knowing they are not safe. Please, _please _do not take this one from me. Let me raise him. I will raise him as fine as any Asgardian warrior!" He sobbed out the words, trembling in the wake of a great fever brought on by an unexpected infection. His third pregnancy had been harder on his body than the other two, and now, he would lose his child again._

"_Take him to his chambers, Thor," Odin commanded coldly, paying no heed to the crying child in his wife's arms. And Jormungandr was so loud it hurt Loki to know his father could ignore the poor thing. "He is delirious with fever. He needs to rest."_

_And Thor gripped Loki's arm, drawing him to his feet as he had so many times, scooping him up in the throne room because Loki's legs were too weak to carry him that time. No words to their father to convince the man to leave his younger brother's third child with him. No words about how Loki would most certainly heal faster if he had the incentive of a child to tend to spurring his recovery. No words indicating he was displeased with the way his brother's children had been treated when he said them so frequently to Loki. But to their father, he said nothing. The perfect, golden son. He did what he was told. Rode fearlessly into battle. Chased maidens who brushed against him in the dining hall. That was who was carrying Loki back to his room. Not the man he loved. Not the man who had held him while he wept over Hel and Fenrir. This was not his brother. This was Thor Odinson, crown prince of Asgard, and Loki did not love _him.

"Yes, but couldn't we find a way—" Thor began, and Loki cut him off.

"And Mother has forbidden your return." He saw the agony flash in Thor's eyes, agony that his father was gone and his mother did not want him, and Loki felt savagely glad his brother would suffer. Because he had suffered, and his children had suffered, and it was time somebody else take the balance of pain in their family. "This is goodbye, Brother."

Not forever, no, but it was goodbye until all of Loki Odinson's—No. He may be king of Asgard, but he was no Son of Odin, and he did not want to be. He wanted no connection to the man who had stolen his children from them and cast them across the five realms their fathers were from. He wanted to bond to Odin. The only members of his family he had ever truly loved were his mother, beautiful Frigga, and Thor, and Thor had failed him. Multiple times. Always, Frigga had tried to reason with Odin that Loki was good and sweet and kind, and that if he raised his children, they would make the House of Odin proud. They would fill the palace with joy and laughter and light. But Thor had said nothing. Had done nothing. Had simply swept the broken pieces of his younger brother's spirit under the rug, stamped it flat, and pretended nothing had happened unless it was convenient for him. Unless they were discussing a future in which Thor realized he desperately needed Loki's assistance to be a good king.

But it might be years before Thor was king, and by the time it came to pass, he would either have to stick it out on his own or abdicate the throne and follow Loki into permanent and final exile. After all, Loki had no plans to remain in Asgard once he was reunited with all of his children. What could a land of cold golden light and cruel ambition offer him when he had five young children to raise? It offered nothing. Midgard did. He could appear with his children and start a new life for himself, for the young ones he loved so dearly. Nothing extravagant. They would live in a large but cozy home, close to the sea or deep in the woods, far removed from the ignorant mortals who called Midgard their own. He would teach them all they needed to know and help them hone their magic, and if Thor was with him, he could teach them as well. It would be a simple but warm life. But if Thor chose to remain in Asgard, Loki would create his family by himself. He had no fears of living in Midgard by himself, and he would certainly do it if it meant having his little ones close to him. Just the thought of reading them ridiculous Midgardian children's stories before bed warmed him from the inside out.

Warmed him enough to make it hard for him to feel any sympathy for the man in front of him, the brother who would have him alone and in agony unless it benefited him to have Loki otherwise. And Loki found himself able to hold his solemn expression. He could let Thor go for now, move on to gather his children, and return. Open himself up. Be vulnerable and honest. After all, what was some pretty Aesir woman compared to him, who knew all of Thor's fears and secrets already?

They were made for each other.

"I'm so sorry," he said quietly, hoping to offer his brother at least a slight condolence. Very slight because he could not draw emphasis to it when he did not mean it. He was not sorry. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time.

"No. I am sorry." Thor's throat quivered helplessly, as if he was trying to keep a lump out of it, and his lips quivered as if he was on the verge of breaking down. Never had Loki seen his brother this close to breaking down except for the time when their grandfather had gone to Valhalla. The man had never liked Loki, and the feeling was mutual, so while Loki had no wept, Thor had. And greatly. And looked as though he wanted to now. But he summoned what little strength he had left and kept his calm front despite the tear dampening his cheek and the quaver in his weak voice. "Than you for coming here."

"Farewell," Loki finally said, turning slowly so his back was to his brother. As he did so, a single tear slid from his eye down his cheek, beading on the line of his jaw before dripping onto the suit jacket he wore. A simple sign this was truly tearing him apart. He allowed himself that single tear because he could not afford it later. Could not afford to break when he was in the thick of his plan. Everything from there on out would take his effort and concentration and wit and control, and he would be weaving a web more complex and unique than any he had woven before.

"Goodbye," he heard faintly as he disappeared.

Before he left to return to Asgard, he found himself inches away from Mjolnir, Thor's beloved hammer, and wished only that it would return to his brother's grasp no matter what that might mean for him. He rested his hand upon the handle, gripped, and tugged. There was the sight of dark dirt flaking off that made him drop her, but he knew.

He could have lifted her.

Instead, he left her and returned to Asgard.

She was Thor's weapon, not his.

And he would not take anything else from Thor.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, you guys. So I labored really hard and got this done last night! Yay! That's over 25,000 words in three days, so let's celebrate by finishing this, reviewing it, and then moving on to the sequel, which will be even longer!**

* * *

**Epiphany**

**Chapter Eight**

When he returned to Jotunheim by way of the Bifrost, he found he had no love left for the realm he had rescued his son from. No love left for the ice-cold inhabitants, but he needed them to accomplish the final part of his plan. His heart was still heavy from leaving Thor in Midgard with no hope of return to Asgard, but he left those feelings behind as he gazed at the frozen scenery around him. No time for sight-seeing, though. He continued to the temple fearlessly, his hands squeezed into lightly quivering fists, his cloak swishing behind him in the ice-laden air. No fear. After all, Jotunheim was home to him, and he, whether he liked it or not, was one of them. A Jotun. A Frost Giant. The prince of them, for that matter, but he had no desire to claim his birthright. Despite having the throne of Asgard, he had no desire to rule, and as soon as he had the chance, he would abdicate every throne he had claim to and run far away where no one could find him.

The Jotuns who recognized him waved him into the throne room, even darker than the wilderness outside, but he was no longer intimidated by the beings two to three feet taller than them and ten times the physical strength. If he wanted to, he could kill them, and if he wanted them to suffer, he had his own magic to do that with. Physical strength could be easily deterred by the force of his power as he had discovered when he had battled the Jotuns alongside his brothers.

He tilted his head back, gazed at Laufey, and did not regret that he was about to lure his father, his king, into death. To bring his children back, he would sacrifice anything and anyone. Besides, father or not, Laufey had never loved him.

"Kill him," the king rasped, as if he could read Loki's thoughts and wanted to prevent his own death.

But Loki would not be deterred, not now. He smirked at the king, read the unease in Laufey's eyes and wondered, yet again, if Laufey knew Loki was his son. The one he would have let die rather than care for and protect. "After all I've done for you?"

"So," Laufey said, sneering in return as his gaze softened, almost paternally so, "you're the one who showed us the way into Asgard."

"That was just a bit of fun, really," Loki admitted, his lips easing into a comfortable smile. A real one. Because he could see it in Laufey's eyes. The Jotun knew the trickster before him was his son, and he was proud. Proud of what Loki had accomplished, proud that he had helped Jotunheim. Possibly proud that he had proved himself a loyal Frost Giant even though he had been raised in Asgard. But if he knew the truth, how proud would he be, then? "To ruin my brother's _big day_. And to protect the realm from his idiotic rule for a while longer."

He saw the king consider his words and waited, having all of the time in the world until he had to return to Asgard. Jormungandr was safe with his mother, no doubt creating more little glimmering creatures to roam about the room and fly through the air. As he thought of his son, he felt his cold, numb skin warm with a hidden joy none of the Jotuns around him needed to know about. As far as Laufey needed to be concerned, Loki was thrumming with joy because he had succeeded at taking over Asgard. Nothing more, nothing less. No one needed to know his children were the only things keeping him alive when he would much rather end his life and that all of this was his last desperate stroke at finding a way to live in a universe that would rather have him swept under the rug. Laufey had not wanted him. He now knew Odin had now wanted him. And, of course, Thor did not want him. All he had left was his younglings, and he was rapidly discovering they were all he needed.

That information allowed him to smile and be at ease among his former kin.

"I will hear you," Laufey finally said.

Loki breathed a silent sigh of relief and paced slowly along the cold stone floor, never letting his gaze waver from Laufey's. He would show no weakness, not to this creature. "I will conceal you and handful of your soldiers, lead you into Odin's chambers, and you can _slay_ him where he lies."

"Why not kill him yourself?" Laufey asked.

The snort left his throat before he could help it, but Loki did not regret the sound. After all, it was a foolish question from one who should know better. "I suspect the Asgardians would not take kindly to a king who had murdered his predecessor." Allowing his facial expressions to betray just how incredibly stupid the Jotun's question had been because he no longer cared what these people thought of him. He had Jormungandr away from them, safe. He no longed needed to be kind to them, and he would not be. Not ever again. "Once Odin is dead, I will return the Casket to you." Laufey stood suddenly, eyes blazing, and that was that. Loki had him. "And you can return Jotunheim to all its, uh… Glory." Glancing at the filth and darkness around him. Had it ever been in glory?

"I accept," Laufey breathed.

Of course he did.

Returning to Asgard was sweet because Loki now had everything he needed in place, every puzzle piece connected, and the image he was viewing was beyond beautiful. He was lost in his own thoughts, his own memories, and knew he would have vengeance for them all. Vengeance for the pain caused him by all of the people in his life who were supposed to love him. His mother would be the only one to escape his retaliation because she had truly cared for him, had meant every word of praise she gifted him with as she brushed his hair or soothed him after a nightmare. The others had lied. All of them had lied. And he would make them all suffer for their lives, suffer for the tears his children had wept that he had not been able to comfort. For the scrapes and cuts they had endured that his healing salves and potions could not reach. For the nightmares they had had in realms where he could not take them into his arms and assure them he would destroy anyone or anything that tried to hurt them.

They would all pay.

When he returned to the Bifrost, he was aware of Heimdall's concerned gaze on him but could not wipe the smile from his face. Bittersweet though he was sure it was, it was welcome on his face, and he was not going to cast it away. "What troubles you, Gatekeeper?"

"I turned my gaze upon you in Jotunheim but could neither see you nor hear you," Heimdall said, expression vacant as always. But Loki had learned to read the Guardian's face when they had been carrying on their silly little affair, and he could detect the tremor in the dark god's voice. Little Loki had finally tugged a trick out of his sleeve Heimdall could not contend with, and that bothered him. "You were shrouded from me, like the Frost Giants that entered this realm."

Loki smirked as he slowly approached the altar where Heimdall stood, manipulating every step so his movements were slow. Gliding, like those of a large cat. Little things to change, to be sure, but he could see it was affecting Heimdall, and that was what he wanted. He always accomplished his goals, and one of them would now have to be keeping the Guardian off of his track until the last threads of his plans were woven together. If that meant seducing him all over again, so be it. Loki had done it when he was eighteen, and it should be no more difficult now that he was hundreds of years older with thousands of new experiences to contribute to his seduction. What was experimental and unknown then was known and enjoyed now. He knew Heimdall's body well, after all. Which places were most sensitive to touch, what the Gatekeeper liked him to do, what the Gatekeeper liked to do to him. Simple enough to prove he had not lost his touch. After all, the fathers of his children had never complained.

"Perhaps your senses have weakened after your many years of service," he teased, the words conveying so many meanings it would be impossible to pin down exactly what he had meant. He saw that troubled Heimdall as well. Oh, how times had changed. Back when they were lovers, he had been a naïve, playful child without a streak of vindictiveness in him. But times had changed him. He now understood the concept of necessary evils.

"Or perhaps someone has found a way to hide that which he does not wish me to see," Heimdall suggested, the words heavy. Of course, Loki did not care if Heimdall knew he was hiding. After all, he had been hiding himself for months now.

"You have great power, Heimdall." The words were a purr, vocalized specifically to caress the dark god like spoken silk. When the Guardian shuddered slightly, Loki counted it was a success and began to round the edge of the altar, watching Heimdall turn with him. Eyes following him. It was how their affair had begun, after all. He had slipped into the Bifrost to speak to Heimdall time and time again, whenever he could, and finally, when he had grown brave enough, he had done what he needed to and discovered pleasure, a pleasure he did not know could exist between lovers. Heimdall had experience, truly, and they had explored just how much experience together. But now Loki had experience to rival the dark god's, and he knew how to use it. "Did Odin ever fear you?"

"No," Heimdall said softly.

Loki turned abruptly to fully face the Gatekeeper, finally onto the subject he wanted to cover. To remind Heimdall who was now in control. "And why is that?"

"Because he is my king." Heimdall's voice was guarded, as if he suspected what trap he was walking into, but Loki would lead him into it whether or not he knew what was about to occur. What he was about to admit. "And I am sworn to obey him."

"_You are sworn to obey my father?" Loki peered up at the dark god curiously, understanding the words fully but not quite understanding the intent behind them. After all, he had only been recently studying the workings of Asgard, and altogether, he found them quite boring._

_Heimdall's chest rumbled, a rare laugh, as he cupped the young prince's cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the line of Loki's cheekbone and sending a little thrill through the younger god's body. He still had trouble understanding how he had convinced the Gatekeeper to cast off the bindings of decorum that guided their lives so they could share stolen moments late at night when Asgard's golden beauty was defeated by the light of the stars. They stood before the gate of the Bifrost, and while Loki only saw a breathtakingly dark sky dotted with stars and swirled with blues and violets, he knew Heimdall saw more. Saw lives and battles and politics and the workings of realms far from Asgard. Loki had always wondered what it was like to gaze into other worlds, but he had never asked. It seemed a personal thing._

"_Yes, little one," Heimdall said, his hand sliding down Loki's cheek to stroke the column of his throat, making the prince's pulse beat rapidly against the cage of his skin. "I must do what he asks of me. And so I stand here and watch as he has commanded me to do. And if I see a threat, I tell him what I see. It is my job and the reason I live in Asgard."_

_Loki nodded slowly, swallowing hard as Heimdall's thumb stroked the curve of his Adam's apple. "And what about Thor and I? Are you sworn to obey us as well?"_

"_Sworn to protect you and serve you as long as those duties does not hinder my oath to your father," Heimdall explained, hand cupping the back of Loki's neck, drawing him closer, a breath away, and Loki tried not to tremble from exhilaration at the closing proximity. "Of course, little prince, what I do for you does not hinder me in any way."_

"He _was_ your king, and you're sworn to obey _me_ now," Loki corrected with ease, recalling the memory of that kiss with fondness. Though he and Heimdall had become distant since the affair had ended, he did have such lovely memories. All that a virgin boy could want. "Yes?"

"Yes," Heimdall echoed, almost sadly.

Loki nodded once and moved to leave the Bifrost, and somehow, he knew Heimdall's eyes would not follow him this time. And wondered what their relationship might have been had he not ended their affair when it became too serious for a young man. "Then you will open the Bifrost to no one until I have repaired the damage my brother has done."

And he wondered if Heimdall had ever loved him.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Epiphany**

**Chapter Nine**

Loki knew he should have expected Heimdall to betray him, but there was something infinitely sad to him about finding his former lover had joined in the same ranks as Laufey and Odin. As he watched the beam of the Bifrost shoot into the sky, he found himself disconnecting from his emotions and his personal thoughts. No more. He could not allow his foolish desires to delay the return of his children no matter what it cost him. And it would cost more now than he had suspected. Not only would he be forced to punish Heimdall for what the Gatekeeper had allowed to occur, he would have to prevent Thor from returning to Asgard. Permanently. Because he _knew_ who was using the Bifrost, knew the idiot warriors planned to rescue Thor and bring him home to take the throne, and he could not allow that to happen. Thor could not understand why Loki had done the things he had. The exiled prince lacked humility. It was the reason he had been cast out of Asgard.

As he turned, preparing to walk down to the armory, he regretted the thought his children were never going to meet their uncle. Had Thor stopped his prejudice long enough to at least hold his niece or one of his nephews, perhaps they could have had their happy family long ago. As it was now, there would be no chance of any of that. But Loki could still have his children. His heart was heavy at the thought of losing Thor, but as he passed the hall leading to his room, he heard Jormungandr's laughter coupled with Frigga's. And he had all of the resolve he needed to know what he was doing was right. Thor would have Asgard destroyed. As it was, Loki would preserve it and destroy its enemies.

He entered the armory and, as he approached the place where the Casket rested, the metal weave on the opposite wall faded away to reveal yet another one of Odin's vicious toys. Aptly hailed as the Destroyer, it towered above him, ready for his command because he was now the king.

"Ensure my brother does not return," he said, surprised at the own callous chill in his voice. Good. He had long since needed that. "Destroy everything."

As soon as the Destroyer was sent off, he turned on heel and made his way out of the armory, pausing to enter his room to find his mother sitting on the bed with Jormungandr. The sight of his son warmed his heart, and he set his scepter aside as he slid onto the bed to take the happily grinning child in his arms. As always, Jormungandr darted eagerly into the embrace, arms twining tight around Loki's neck, face rubbing against Loki's, and it was enough to nearly break the trickster. He sucked in a breath to keep himself from crying and pasted on a smile for his mother as he ran a hand down Jormungandr's back. When he had been born, the little Jotun had been the feistiest of his siblings, screaming at anyone who tried to hold him unless it was Frigga or Loki. No one else seemed allowed. And if they refused to put him down after he had screamed them deaf, he would yank on shirt collars until people choked or pull hair until it came out. But six years later, the child was the sweetest in all of Asgard.

"I missed you, Momma," Jormungandr proclaimed in a bright tone, nuzzling his face into the soft green fabric draped over Loki's shoulder. "Can you stay this time?"

"Soon, love. I just have a few more things to do before I can stay," Loki said softly, dropping a kiss onto the dark head tucked just beneath his chin. Gods, but it hurt to leave Jormungandr now that he had the boy back in his life. Nevertheless, the tasks he had to perform were for the betterment of both of their lives, and once it was all over, they would have eons of time to spend together. And none of his children would ever have to ask him if he could stay. Once it was all over, he would never have to leave.

Frigga smiled and gently plucked her grandson out of Loki's lap, and Loki wondered if that is what it had looked like when he was a child. "Don't overwork yourself, dear. If you need to find the two of us, we'll be in Odin's room."

Loki nodded and stood, retrieving his scepter so he could deal with the last traitor he had to truly worry about in Asgard. The golden walls around him passed in a blur as he left the palace, setting his feat upon the rainbow path and quickly covering the distance of it. Heimdall waited for him at the mouth of the Bifrost, as he had always been commanded to, and Loki had a powerful sense of déjà vu as he recalled the night their relationship had ended.

"_Why did you tell your mother about our relationship?" Heimdall inquired, amber eyes sparked with a hint of anger as Loki stalked up to him. "I told you it would be unwise to say such a thing to either of your parents. But because you did, I have no choice but to ask you to stop accompanying me."_

"Tell me, Loki," Heimdall said, rich, dark voice drawing Loki from the memory and entrenching him in it at the same time, forcing his mind to split in half. "How did you get the Jotuns into Asgard?"

_The prince tried to restrain the tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he gazed into Heimdall's, willing the towering god to rescind his statement and open his arms, but it never happened. It made the tears break free and course down his cheeks to know it would never happen again, and damn the Gatekeeper, damn him and the rigorous morals he clutched tightly. "I told her because I was _happy_, Heimdall, and she wanted to know why. She does not care if we are together. Why are you suddenly so against it? I thought you had some sort of feelings for me."_

"You think the Bifrost is the only thing in and out of this realm?" he snapped, fingers gripping his scepter so tightly his knuckles were bleached white. Rage. Pure fury at remembering that night and knowing, _knowing_ that Heimdall had betrayed him again. No one ever thought enough of his feelings to consider they might be hurting him, and he would be _damned_ if he let it happen again.

"_My feelings for you are not as deep as you would wish them, little prince. I cannot help that. We are simply not meant to be together," Heimdall said calmly, as if Loki's pain did not faze him. As if nothing could faze him._

"There are secrets paths between the worlds to which even you, with all your gifts, are blind," he continued, watching Heimdall's expression tinge with concern. He knew the Gatekeeper could sense his distress, but he no longer cared. "But I have need of them no longer, now that I am king."

"_So you never loved me." The words were bitter on his tongue, far more bitter than the disgusting mead the warriors drank, and they left his lips in a half-sob. Despite the cold air whipping around his barely-covered body, his face was hot with shame and anger. His cheeks were wet with tears, and his vision made the Guardian before him smudge and blur into a distortion of gold and ebony. "Why then did you let me come back time and time again for comfort in your arms? Why did you make me fall in love with you if you planned on breaking me like this? You could have told me I was nothing more than a casual bedmate long ago. I would not have discontinued our _relationship_ if you had."_

"And I say, for your act of treason, you are relieved of your duties as Gatekeeper." The words ripped from him in a snarl, and he saw Heimdall recoil, perhaps just a breath, but it was enough to make him feel powerful. And it was an addicting feeling.

_Heimdall reached for him, but Loki jerked away before their skin came into contact. "Loki, do not spoil what we shared. It may not be all that you wanted, but I gave you what I could, and I never lied to you. I never told you I loved you, and had I thought you had worked up to that belief, I would have dissuaded you and set you back on the correct path."_

But those words had been so hollow. "And no longer citizen of Asgard," Loki finished, and the satisfaction that came with the decree filled him like a sparkling glow, deep and warm and all-encompassing, and it momentarily drowned out the pain in his chest.

"_You do not love me now, and you never did, and you never will, will you, Heimdall?" Loki laughed sadly, his tears forgotten as ice wrapped around his heart, a cold shield he would never allow any to penetrate. "But why love me? How can I blame you when none have loved me, and none ever will?" And he was still laughing to himself as he turned away from the Gatekeeper, still laughing as he dragged himself into his room to collapse upon his black sheets and sob._

"Then I need no longer obey you," Heimdall said, lifting his sword, preparing to swing.

But Loki was quicker, always had been. He summoned the Casket to his hands and used its powers to freeze the Guardian, leaving him in mid-swing. Icy strength spread through Loki's body, and he shuddered in delight as his skin bled to blue once again. He was a Jotun, after all, the rightful prince to the frozen throne even if he preferred to hold Asgard's. That task complete, he sent the Casket back to the armory and returned to the throne room, focusing his power on the Destroyer, which was in the process of destroying the little Midgardian town as it searched for Thor. And the warriors thought they could defeat it when Odin had made it so it could not be destroyed. As he sat down on the throne and fed the Destroyer his rage, he half-hoped the thing would unintentionally kill the warriors as well, leaving the whole lot of them dead. But when he felt Thor approach the Destroyer, he tensed. No. He did not want his brother to martyr himself. Not like this.

When he donned his helmet once again, the weight of it was comforting, a certainty in the ever-shifting world around him. Ever-shifting even though none of the citizens of Asgard would ever know that it was shifting until it was too late. So close. So very close.

And now Thor would make him feel guilty for it.

"_Brother,"_ he heard Thor say, voice calm and steady despite knowing he was walking toward his death. Had Thor… Changed? Had his arrogant older brother truly discovered the better side of himself while on Midgard? Well, it would be a pity if he had now that he was about to die. _"Whatever I have done to wrong you… Whatever I have done to lead you to this… I am truly sorry."_

_You know what you did,_ Loki thought sadly because those words had been proof Thor had not learned enough. Perhaps, if he had admitted to what he had done, he could live. Loki may even have forgiven him and welcomed him back to Asgard given he abdicate right to the throne while Loki's children were still in other realms. But as always, Thor was pretending ignorance and acting as though he had no idea anything he had done was wrong. Forget forgiving him. Forget hoping he would come around as Frigga claimed he would. There was not hope for Thor.

"_But these people are innocent."_ Loki stilled. _"Taking their lives will gain you nothing. So take mine and end this."_

_So be it, Brother. I am truly sorry as well. And though I know you cannot hear my thoughts, know that I love you and always will, and I will not lot my children live without knowing your name._ And Loki gave the final command to the Destroyer, a wave of true despair washing over him, breaking down his inner ice shields long enough to remind him he _did_ have a heard, and he did love his brother desperately. And oh gods, he felt awful for doing this even though he had to.

He felt the moment when Thor's life force flickered, his fingers digging into the armrests of the throne, and as he lowered his lashes, he felt tears gather in his eyes. No. He could not afford to ache for his brother now when it was too late to save him. Too late to change anything. Thor was gone. Loki had killed his older brother, his one true love, and there was nothing about that he could change. It was over. All of it was over. He now stood as the ruler of Asgard, unopposed by any, and all he now had to do was bring the Jotuns into Asgard. And that was it.

That was when the jolt of thunder opened his eyes.

_Thor?_


	11. Chapter Ten

**Epiphany**

**Chapter Ten**

He did not need Heimdall's sword to open the Bifrost, as he still had the scepter, and it was much easier to lift when Laufey and three of his soldiers stepped through the portal. Seeing them in the golden glow that forever emanated from the city made Loki's stomach twist. They were creatures of the dark and the cold, not fit to walk through Asgard, but as they would serve his purpose, he needed them there. He faced them coldly, face blank of expression.

"Welcome to Asgard," he offered.

And Laufey _smiled_ at him as if they were old comrades... Or father and son. Loki waved him and one of his soldiers to follow while the other two remained flanking Heimdall. The knowledge that Thor had defeated the Destroyer made Loki uneasy, but he did not have to tell the Jotuns that. All he informed them of was that Heimdall was strong and may not stay contained in his ice prison, and Laufey commanded them to stay. Grinning at the frozen god as if he knew just how it had occurred, knew that Loki had used the Casket to do it. Of course, the Casket was his originally, so it made sense the king would recognize its work. Loki spoke not of Heimdall's condition or what had been the cause of it, but he knew he did not have to. Laufey knew they were father and son, knew what Loki was capable of, so it was not surprising to him. And Loki was oddly fine with him knowing because no one could predict what he was about to do.

When the Jotuns approached Odin's room, Loki gave Laufey an icy stare to remind him who he had come to hurt, then disappeared into the shadows. Using their darkness to hide himself because he was not leaving. He watched the doors swing open, watched Frigga kill the soldier only to be swatted aside by Laufey. Unexpected anger tensed Loki's muscles, dared him to dive in right then and kill the Jotun for what he had done, but he held back on it. Held back even when he heard Jormungandr's soft whimper and expected Laufey to know better than to hurt the child. If the king hurt his son, Loki would not just kill him. He would hold the Jotun down with his magic, skin him, and pour salt and vinegar on his raw wounds until he screamed for the agony to stop. Abuse the raw, open nerves and leave him beginning for a death that would never come.

He stepped into better view of the room, silently lifting his helmet onto his head as he watched Laufey straddle Odin's prostrate figure. And the sight of Jormungandr, pressed into the fur, eyes wide and wet with tears, nearly undid him. But not yet. Not yet.

"It's said you can still hear and see what transpires around you," Laufey said, voice dangerously low as he loomed over the sleeping man. "I hope it's true, so that you may know your death came at the hand of Laufey." His hand fell to his side, forming a blade of ice, and as soon as he raised it, Loki removed the magic disguising his body and struck out with the power of the scepter, sending the Jotun flying across the room to land on his side.

Jormungandr leapt from his position on the bed and ran to Loki, burying his face in the heavy green velvet of his mother's cape. No longer were the Jotuns a familiar, safe people to him. They were now proper monsters, as they should be, and it would mean nothing to the boy when Loki eliminated them all. And he would. In one fell swoop. That was why he had lured them into Asgard and placed them in a position to make an attempt on Odin's life. Now, all of Asgard would see them as horrid beasts, and they would worship the king that had destroyed them all. Even Odin would not be able to fault him for bringing Jormungandr home, away from the things, and all would be well. Only Heimdall would ever be able to guess at his sorcery, and yet what would Heimdall's word be against his when he happened to mention the Gatekeeper had compromised his tender virginity?

He fixed Laufey with a cold gaze, resting one hand on Jormungandr's head. "And your death came by the son of Odin."

While Laufey was still staring at him, as if in disbelief, Loki blasted him to glowing embers with the scepter. He peered down at his son's face, offered him a reassuring smile as he wiped a single tear off of Jormungandr's cheek. _It is all well again. Momma has destroyed the monster, and it will never hurt you or scare you. Ever again._ He lifted his head to see his mother standing and stepped to meet her, not moving quickly enough to throw his son off balance. Just quick enough to convince the boy to move with him, which he did happily.

"Loki!" She ran to him, her face relieved and afraid and disbelieving all at once. "You saved him."

He caught her in one arm, curled her in against his chest and hugged her, setting the scepter down so he could keep his free hand on his son's head. Holding the three of them together for one gentle embrace before he stepped back. "I swear to you, Mother, that they will pay for what they've done today." He lowered his gaze to his son and smiled. "Momma will make all of the monsters go away, sweetling."

"_Loki."_ The voice was deep, gruff, angry. And all-too-familiar. Was it possible? Had he truly made it back so rapidly? And how had he when the Gatekeeper was locked in ice?

But there he was, dressed in full armor, crimson cape hanging off of his shoulders, Mjolnir gripped tightly in his hands. That damnable hammer. There was no sign on Thor's ruggedly handsome face the Destroyer had fazed him, no cut or mark or scrape to mar the perfection that was his face, and Loki felt his heart throb in need. He wanted to apologize profusely, fall to his knees as he had so many times before and beg for forgiveness, but his muscles stayed stiffly in position. His body would not allow him to beg heedlessly when he knew Thor would hear none of it, not again.

"Thor!" Frigga hurried to him, and Loki forgave her that because he knew she was startled to see him when he had been gone so long. "I knew you'd return to us."

Thor embraced her when she threw her arms around him, but eyes as searing as blue stars pinned Loki in place, making him tense and lose much of his courage. What brought him out of his trance was the sound of little steps on the floor, Jormungandr wandering curiously over to Thor, unafraid of him. And when Frigga stepped back out of the embrace, Thor managed a smile as he dropped into a kneel, pulling the boy close for a hug. _As if._ He had been just as eager as Odin to remove Loki's children from Asgard, and there was no conceivable way he could feel anything for the boy that was pure Jotun and only appeared the least bit Aesir because of glamour alone. But the look he gave Jormungandr was sincere enough for the boy, who drifted over to Frigga while Thor stalked into the room, moving to the other side of their father's bed while Loki backed away from him. No. Not in front of his son.

"Why don't you tell her how you sent the Destroyer to kill our friends?" Thor asked, the words hurtled across the bed, dripping with accusation and _hatred_. "To kill me?"

"What?" Frigga's eyes were wide with shock, but already forgiving, already understanding. She loved him far too much to ever come close to despising him, even for trying to kill Thor. And in that moment, Loki loved her just as deeply, just as fiercely. He could never repay her for that love.

But he still had use of his silver tongue, and he used it on Thor. Just like always. "Why, it must have been enforcing Father's last command."

"You're a talented liar, Brother. Always have been." And though there was anger in his voice, Loki took the compliment given to him because he knew it was sincere as harshly worded as it was. Thor had always admired his ability to lie, after all.

"It's good to have you back," Loki admitted, allowing just a bit of his pain, his anguish, slip into the words before tucking them firmly back into his splintered heart. Where they belonged. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to destroy Jotunheim."

He blasted Thor through the wall of their father's room, then fled from the room before either Frigga or Jormungandr tried to stop him. Not now, not yet, not when he was so close. His mount waited for him where he had tied the horse earlier in the evening, and he untied her swiftly and yanked himself atop her, digging his heals into her sides to urge her into a full gallop. Forcing the both of them down the rainbow bridge at a pace fast enough to break the neck of a human because he had to be quick about it. When he saw the puddles of water at the end of the bridge and the absent Gatekeeper, he realized Heimdall must have had more power than Loki had thought. But the sword was still there, and without hesitation, he thrust it into the altar, filling the room with the blue-white tendrils of power. And he used his ice to encase them, making it impossible to stop what he had begun. And when Thor arrived and saw what his baby brother had done, Loki felt a sick sort of pride and glee.

"You can't stop it," he informed Thor, watching the helplessness fill his brother's eyes. "The Bifrost will build until it rips Jotunheim apart."

When Thor tried to strike the ice with Mjolnir, Loki blasted him back with the scepter, ignoring the screaming, warring voice of his heart. Not now. Gods, not now. And when Thor forced himself to his feet, already wavering, Loki locked his heart away so it would not interfere with what he had to do.

"Why have you done this?" Thor asked, confusion evident in his voice. His anger was giving away to bewilderment, desire to fight to desire to understand.

Loki wanted to hurt him just for asking, but instead, he tightened the grip on the scepter and growled out the lie he had worked up just for Thor. "To prove to Father that I am the worthy son. When he wakes, I will have saved his life. I will have destroyed that race of monsters. And I will be true heir to the throne." As if any of that truly mattered. But if Thor wanted to be dense, he supposed anything could matter.

"You can't kill an entire race," Thor said, voice desperate.

"Why not?" Loki laughed slightly, shaking inside, shaking because he was beginning to think he had been wrong. And what if he had been wrong? What if Thor could be okay with his true origins, with Jormungandr's, and this time, stand beside him to bring his children home? Had the God of Lies missed the true right before his eyes? "And what is this newfound love for the Frost Giants? You could have killed them all with your bare hands." _If you had known then that I was one of them, you could have killed me. My son._

"I've changed," Thor insisted, and Loki saw that it was true. Too late, he saw that it was true.

But now, it did not matter. "So have I." And while Thor's gaze was locked on his, he swung the scepter and smashed the flat side of the end against his brother's cheek, relishing the way Thor's head jerked to the side. "Now fight me." Swung the scepter again, this time using the bottom, knocking Thor across the floor to rest beneath the glowing, quivering web of ice.

It did not matter. Did not matter that Thor had changed, that Thor now understood, that they could have all that Loki had dreamed of and more. Did not matter because _he_ was now the monster. But so be it. This monster would protect his offspring at all costs.

"I never wanted the throne!" The truth slipped from his lips as he rounded the altar, seeing Thor spread-eagle on his back and momentarily wondering just how inappropriate it would be to vanish his brother's clothing and ride him desperately while Jotunheim crumbled. "I only ever wanted to be your equal."

Thor pushed himself back up. Would not give up, even though his steps were unsteady. "I will not fight you, Brother!"

"I'm not your brother." Loki smiled wistfully at the knowledge, and his eyes swam with tears. Gods, but he had cried _enough_ since all of this had begun. "I never was."

"Loki, this is madness," Thor insisted, so much pleading in his voice. _Just stop. Just give up. It will all be okay if you just stop now before it is too late. Please just stop._

"Is it madness? Is it? _Is it?_" He was too vulnerable, too open, and he would not allow it. Not now. Not ever again. Instead, he changed tactics. Make Thor vulnerable, make him angry, make him _fight._ "Come on. What happened to you on Earth that turned you so _soft_? Don't tell me it was that woman. Oh, _it was!_" Tears slipped free of his eyes, but he was hopeless to control them. Hopeless to stop his pain as it welled out of him, concealed in a cocoon of anger and spite. "Well, maybe, when we're finished here, I'll pay her a visit _myself!_"

That was all it took. Thor leapt toward him, and Loki jumped to meet him, the scepter meeting Mjolnir and sending sparks flying through the room. Thor won the small clash, pinning Loki to the floor, but Loki pushed him off and stood, stabbing at him with the scepter. Would have connected, but Thor kicked his leg out from under him, and he was on his back again. Mjolnir came down toward him, and he angled the scepter to take the blow, knowing it could.

Metallic clang. Sparks. Light. Loki swung his leg up, kicking Thor in the chest just so he could have the room to maneuver back onto his feet. Turned and engaged, swinging the scepter only to have it meet Mjolnir again and again. Damn that hammer. Finally caught the right angle and swung Thor, sending him back onto the floor. Jumped, flying through the air, scepter aimed at Thor's head, he needed to _die_, but the damned bronze prince rolled at the last second, and the scepter hit the floor instead.

Hammer swinging near his face. Loki ducked, then planted the scepter firmly on the floor and swung his body around it, both feet slamming into Thor's chest, but his brother, his _love_, was hardly fazed. More engaging. Swing. Sparks. Light. Clangs. Elbow to the chin, stunning him, and then he was thrown across the floor. Mjolnir coming toward him, and Loki threw his power out against her, preventing her from hurting him, but when their bodies collided, they flew. He landed far from Thor, disguised himself instantly and hung his beloved double off of the edge of the bridge. Thor loved him too dearly.

"Thor! Brother, please," the clone begged, and of course Thor knelt to help him. Just as he vanished.

Loki was behind him, struck him with the scepter, filled the bridge with his clones. When Thor screamed "Enough!" and blasted him, he was stunned, and next he knew, Mjolnir was planted firmly on his chest as his brother beheld the Bifrost. The bridge was thrumming and running with rainbows of color, and it was beautiful, so beautiful it moved Loki to tears, as everything did, it seemed. He watched Thor regard the bridge, trying to move the hammer and finding she would not move for him now. Just the same. He settled against the bridge and watched Thor, breath hard.

"Look at you," he sneered, "the Mighty Thor, with all your strength, and what good does it do you now, huh? Do you hear me, Brother? There's nothing you can do!"

And then the weight on his chest was gone, and as he sat up, shocked at the loss of weight, the bridge shook. Thor. Lifting Mjolnir high in the air and bringing her down on the bridge, splintering it. Shattering it. Bringing spider web cracks. And Loki was stunned.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, screaming to make his voice heard to his mad brother. "If you destroy the bridge, you'll never see her again!"

But Thor would not stop, and so Loki seized the scepter once again, knowing what he had to do. Knowing he had to help.

And as he flew toward the crack, intent on striking the weakened space, he heard Thor whisper, "Forgive me, Jane."

The scepter and Mjolnir struck the crack, and everything went white.

He screamed, hand stretching out, catching the scepter, and the sudden jerk to his body made him look up. Thor's hand was around the other end of the scepter, holding him above a black tear rent into the stars, and above that stood Odin, holding Thor's boot. And all of the fight left Loki, and all he wanted was his father's love.

"I could have done it, Father! I could have done it." His chest hurt. Everything hurt. "For you. For all of us." Sure Father would understand and love him still.

"No, Loki," Odin whispered.

And he heard it. Very faintly, Loki heard it. And though Thor screamed his name, screamed no, he opened his fingers and allowed himself to slip. Felt the power of the hole suck him in, and Loki Laufeyson's final thought was that he hoped someone would care for his son now that he was dead.


	12. Epilogue

**Author's Note: So, you lovelies, this is the final chapter. I know, this one was long but updated really fast, and the sequel will be up momentarily. It's called Ambiguous, and I hope you review it and enjoy it as well. I love you all, I truly do.**

* * *

**Epiphany**

**Epilogue**

But he was not dead.

He followed beside the human scientist in the hall, fascinated by the building they were in but knowing his purpose was. To find the Tesseract. To bring it to the Other and to subjugate Midgard, to ease the anger and power and destruction that overflowed across their planet because he abhorred it in every way. Gods, but he wanted to return to Asgard and hold his son once again, perhaps convince Thor that he was not as bad as he seemed, that, in the end, he had done what was right. He had helped destroy the bridge and had rid Asgard of the monster of the House of Odin. Perhaps, one day, his brother would forgive him. Perhaps, one day, his brother would even love him back. Until that day, though, he only hoped Jormungandr was well cared for, and that Odin had softened having the child so close to him during his sleep. Had discovered that the boy, though the mirror image of his dark, twisted mother, was sweeter than the freshest roses in the warmth of summer.

When they finally came to a room with someone waiting within, Loki waited slightly behind the scientist, feeling a thrum of unknown power in the room. Extreme power, he noted. And he knew it was the Tesseract. How the dark-skinned mortal with the patch over his eye and the black clothing had come by it, he did not know, but so be it. They were mortal, and he was a god, and he would take the Tesseract and soothe their planet into the peace Asgard was a symbol of.

It was the only good thing Asgard had ever offered, and he hoped he had not destroyed that peace.

"Dr. Selvig." The dark man's voice was deep and startling, but it did not faze the scientist at all. Loki nodded in approval. He already liked the mortal very much, liked the complex inner workings of his mind, and carefully drifted closer to him. Protectively. Just in case.

"So you're the man behind all this?" Selvig sounded slightly amused, not the least bit intimidated as he gestured to the room around him. "It's quite a labyrinth. I was thinking they're taking me down here to kill me."

_Not a chance of that,_ Loki thought, and did not know where the protective edge had come from.

The dark man did not appear amused, and Selvig's slight laughter faded into uneasy silence. When the dark man stepped forward and began to speak, Loki twitched at the closeness of him. "I've been hearing about the New Mexico situation. Your work has impressed a lot of people who are much smarter than I am." And of that, Loki was certain the mortal was telling the truth.

It did not make him dislike the dark man any less.

"I have a lot to work with," Selvig said, as if trying to explain how simple it was for him to be intelligent or, Loki thought discontentedly, perhaps trying to apologize for how intelligent he was? But intelligence was nothing to apologize for. It was a true gift, one that could never be learned and one that could not be taught. "The Foster Theory. A gateway to another dimension. It's unprecedented… Isn't it?"

The dark man turned his back to Selvig, an unwise decision since it would have been so simple for Loki to strike him, and began to stroll toward a large silver case placed on the a table. It was the source of the power in the room. Loki skipped ahead of Selvig a bit to guarantee himself an excellent vantage point with which to appraise the case and its contents from. But, of course, he kept his eye on Selvig, watching the mortal hesitantly begin to follow the dark man. Wisely enough, Selvig did not trust him, and Loki yet again smiled in approval. He _liked_ this mortal.

"Legend tells us one thing," the dark man said, and Loki rolled his eyes at the cryptic words. Mortals had such a flair for the dramatic. If they could but learn to be direct with one another, perhaps their stupid little arguments would be so less wounding. So less foolish. "History, another. But every now and then, we find something that belongs to both."

Loki felt his pulse speed slightly when the dark man opened the case, and he peered at the small, glowing, sizzling blue cube within with a frown. That little thing was what the Other wanted? That was what was so secret Selvig had been drawn into the maze that was this S.H.I.E.L.D. building so no one else would see? That was the source of so much drama? How ridiculous. At least the Casket appeared interesting with its stone frame and delicate carvings. The cube looked more like a poorly-crafted children's toy.

"What is it?" Selvig asked, more confused than impressed. Good again. Loki was starting to like him even more.

"Power, Doctor," the dark man replied, finally smiling. It was the smile of a snake. Loki did not trust it. "If we can figure out how to tap it, maybe unlimited power."

Ah, that explained it. Loki stepped closer, caught his reflection in the mirror beside him and smiled. _Well, I guess that's worth a look._ And he pushed the thought into Selvig's mind. He did not trust the mortal to not get hurt. So, for the nonce, he would take over and protect him. It was only right.

"Well, I guess that's worth a look," Selvig echoed, smiling.

Loki nodded approvingly.

And a new plan began to form inside his head.

**To Be Continued…**


End file.
